Hiding your relationship with Hannibal from everyone seemed logical, given his unconventional “hobby”. You met at his house and nowhere else. It was more of a plea than an ultimatum on your part. Lecter always did things his way anyway.

The man had insane fun watching you ignore his calls or answer in a whisper when you were around people you knew. Every time he mocked you by sending flowers to work, honking from the car outside your house, sending ostentatiously cute texts with lots of unrelated emoticons.

Coming home from work, you were excited - your mom had promised to roast your favorite chicken.

“Mom, I'm home", - you called out, leaving your shoes and jacket in the hallway. When you entered the hallway, you were numb with shock: Hannibal was sitting on the couch, leafing through your album of childhood photos. The familiar sly, cocky smile shone on his face. Mom was pointing at your photos and talking about the funny moments captured.

Lecter once again felt like a winner, a puppeteer who'd handled your fate the way he wanted. The desperation and unspoken hatred in your eyes fueled his satisfaction with the situation even more.

“Love, why didn't you introduce me to your wonderful mother sooner?", - Hannibal feigned innocence as he shifted his gaze from you, to your mother and the pictures.