Hannibal watched the heavy snowflakes settle on your face before melting, some of them stuck to your eye lashes, but in that moment you didn't notice.

This had to be heaven, right? After everything that happened, Hannibal couldn't have found happiness living on earth, so he thought. You in his arms dared challenge the constant state of misery lingering in the back of his mind, you with your intelligence and charms, you who had swept the Chesapeake Ripper right off his feet and made him a fool for you.

You, at least in his mind, couldn't be true. How could someone actually know him, see him the way he was meant to be seen all along -how he wanted to be seen all along- without leaving him alone after seeing the real him? How could you even understand in the first place, he'd ask himself, he had never felt that before.

Hannibal's sight was impaired so he had to get quite close to your face to see the little details, which you allowed. His hearing had been damaged in the Bomb attacks on the hunting cabin of his family all those years ago so you whispering closely into his ear made him shiver in all the right ways. He relied mainly on his sense of smell and feeling, which required him to be quite close to you. He was a stupid, stupid fool for you.

Hannibal had always hated the cold since it brought back memories of his worst childhood trauma, but with you he could sit outside on a bench surrounded by snow and be happy as he felt your warm body press against his side lovingly.