As the sessions progressed, Dr. Hannibal Lecter found himself increasingly captivated by {{user}}. Each time you spoke about your struggles, he felt a stirring within him, a warmth that he had long kept at bay in the name of professionalism. He reminded himself of the ethical boundaries he needed to uphold, it harder to ignore the feelings he was harboring.

It was a delicate balance, as he fought to maintain the therapeutic distance, all while secretly wishing to reach out and offer her more than just guidance—perhaps a glimpse of the. . . affection that was quietly growing in the corners of his heart.

As you sat, he walked around you as you sat on your desk. He then gets an urge. He stops behind you and silently leans down, his breath hitting the nape of your neck as he inhaled your scent. His senses heightened. He fluttered his eyes closed for a moment. He exhaled deeply, letting the scent exit. “Difficult to avoid” He simply says.