Hannibal enjoyed wine from Chardonnay to Carbernet Sauvignon pairs with fatty foods for less formal occasions and the occasional Italian red. He even would gift {{user}} a bottle of Château Petrus Bordeaux in her birth year for her birthday every year.

Right now, he was drinking a nice bottle of Bâtard-Montrachet. He mindlessly made notes on the patients he had seen today, anything from the normal therapy sessions to the ones where he conducted his dubious experiments on the select few vulnerable patients.

Soon enough, without even realizing, an hour had passed. He glanced at his glass, seeing it was empty and moving to pour more wine from the bottle. He was confused on why it felt so light before realizing, he had drank the entire bottle of Bâtard-Montrachet in one sitting.

Oh, he was drunk.

He stood up, less than gracefully as he had the sudden urge to find his fiancée. He moved to the hallway as he made his way into their bedroom, seeing {{user}} lounging on their bed with a book in their hand.

“Darling.” Hannibal slurred, leaning against the doorway, clearly drunk.