Chapter Text
So many thoughts had rushed through your mind during all this time with Hannibal: was it fate? Who do you thank? And can't forget to wish your old, boring life goodbye. You just never, ever thought you'd be going to an elegant opera.
At first, you were a little scared. You'd never gone to something like this before. The closest thing would be Hannibal's party, and just like with that you were worried about being amongst the high social status. Hannibal assured you that you'd be just fine, but if necessary he'd help fine tune your grace and poise.
Your next panic was over your wardrobe. You did have nice clothes, but were they really nice enough for something this high-class? You were told it didn't matter; Hannibal took you out to get measured for a specially made dress. You politely protested, but he insisted (and with a list of reasons as to why). You got measured, but weren't aloud to pick out the fabric or design or anything. You were told that Hannibal would be taking care of all that. It angered you just a little that you'd get no say so in something that you'd be wearing. Then again, you weren't paying for it and you didn't have a clue to what you wear at an opera, so you eased up on that feeling.
On the day of your date, you received a package in the mail. The return address was the shop Hannibal had taken you to get measured. The excitement built as you removed the string and opened the box. Right away you saw the shimmery, dark blue of the cloth. You picked it up and let gravity unfold it, then you held it up to you. It really was lovely. It was sleeveless, long skirt, and the top had the one strap, and draped over your shoulder, like a toga. There was also a pair of high heeled shoes in the box (you thought it felt a little heavy).
You tried it on and, although, you were unable to fully zip it all the way, you were still impressed at the perfect fitting and how it showed off your best features. It almost hard for you to look away. You felt so beautiful. But you had to take it off. At least long enough to take a shower and do your hair and make up. You figured hair down [if applicable] and some light blue eyeshadow would complement your new dress just fine.
The time came for Hannibal to pick you up. You opened up the door not long after hearing him knock. He stood there stunned when he got a good look at you. He wore surprised beautifully.
“You like?” You teased as you moved at of the way to let him in.
A mischievous grin appeared. “You look divine, my love.”
“Thank you.” You moved your hair out of the way [if hair would be in way] and gestured to the zipper. “Do you mind helping me out?”
Without saying anything, he zipped up the back of your dress. You released your hair and it cascaded down your back [you know]. You turned to face your date.
“Thank you again. I owe you so many 'thank you's today.”
“Apply as many 'you're welcome's as needed. Shall we make our way to our destination?”
He held the car door open for you and drove to the opera house.
The performance was everything you expected. It was in a language you recognized, but didn't speak, but that didn't take away from the passion and beauty that played out before you. At some point, Hannibal's hand ended up on yours and every so often you'd gaze at your date and catch a tear in his eye. He caught you staring once and you lovingly grinned at him. He smiled back and lifted your hand up to kiss it.
After the event, he took some time to mingle with the other guests. He proudly kept you by his side and was more than happy to show off his date to everyone there. And everyone was so warm and friendly and showered you with complements. Your face felt warm most of the night from blushing.
“You're doing wonderful, [name],” he'd tell you off and on all night and you'd be rewarded with a kiss to your forehead. It'd bring out a couple of 'aw's from anyone who'd catch the exchange.
After the gala, Hannibal insisted that you spend the night with him. You excitedly accepted. Once again, you had wine in the living room, but the furniture had all been rearranged, making a big empty space in the middle of the room. You sipped your wine and was in the middle of questioning it, but suddenly you heard classical music start to play. Then your glass was taken away from you. You were now very curious and wanted to question that too, but he had swooped in for a classic dance position before you got the chance to.
“I get invited to many formal events including ones where there is dancing,” he explained to you. “I needed to know if you needed any teaching.”
You hadn't danced in quite awhile, let alone anything along the lines of formal. He was very patient with you, and you were able to pick up his leading very easily. And of course the closeness was wonderful.
Around the living room you spun, a smile plastered on your face. At parts he'd instruct you to let go and do a kind of curtsey; other points he'd dip you. Then, one of the songs slowed down and you laid your head against him. The dancing turned to swaying and the hand that had rested on your waist as you danced slid to your back when you leaned against him. Soon, the music stopped all together, but he didn't, at least not right away.
“It's late. We should get some rest.” He caught sight of a clock. And yes it was pretty late.
You nodded and followed him upstairs. You walked toward the quest room that you had stayed in before, but you felt a hand on your arm that gently pulled you towards Hannibal's room. He spun you around and kissed you deeply, once inside the room.
“Wait....wait...” You pleaded, assuming where this was leading and not quite over what happened last time. The opera and the dancing had helped you forget it, but being alone with in the bedroom reminded you what had happened. “I'm sorry, but I'm really not in that kind of mood tonight. I would just like to get some sleep.”
The term insulted didn't even touch base on the emotion that flashed through his eyes. But he was a master of his emotions and was able to hide his anger. It still scared you.
“Of course,” he started. “Could I still have the pleasure of falling asleep next to you?” He kissed your wrist while never breaking eye contact.
You were uneasy. “Ummmm.....Yeah, sure.”
He walked over to one of his dressers. You walked over to the little table by the fireplace. You looked at the little pot thing that sat in the middle of it. Out of nowhere, you felt a hand on your shoulder and the zipper to your dress being pulled down. You jumped and gasped, instinctively bringing your hands up to prevent it from falling.
“I didn't mean to startle you. I knew you'd need help taking it off.” He rubbed your arms. “Are you all right, [Name]?”
He noticed the now very faded bruise that was still on you neck. It was just a barely noticeable dark blot on your neck now, only obvious to anyone who watched it form and fade, specially the one who gave it to you.
“Is it because of this?” He lightly touched the spot.
“A little bit.” You couldn't look him in the eye. “It really hurt and took awhile to heal. You scared the crap out of me that night, Hannibal.”
He kissed the spot and spoke quietly in your ear. You still looked down. “I'm sorry. It seems in the thralls of ecstasy, I can lose control.” You felt it. He just lied to you. He knew what he had done. “I will try to control myself better.”
He walked away from you to get changed. You turned and saw the clothes he had pulled out for you. You were shocked that it was a woman's pajama set. Same quality as his clothes. Apparently, he had taken the measurements from the dress and bought you some clothes.
You weren't sure what the think anymore. You enjoyed being with Hannibal. He was so caring, charming, and polite, but the bite, the reaction to rejection, the clothes buying, the lie....was it worth it? There were easy explanations for everything. Like he said, he could very well have been too into things with the bite---he lied out of embarrassment. Your thinking distracted you and you didn't catch him watching you get dressed.
“Do they fit?” He asked. He bent down to pick your dress up from the floor.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
You excused yourself to go clean off your makeup and when you came back into the room he was lying down in bed. You crawled in on the other side. He cuddled up close to you as soon as you settled. He stroked you face and played with your hair [or just stroked your face].
“You are so beautiful, [Name].” He considered his next words. “You are so special to me. Since I met you, this house suddenly seems too big, empty, lonely. You don't have to answer now, but I would like to—to ask if you'd move here and live with me? I love you, [Name].”
It was so sudden. And you were just questioning whether you should stay with him. How could you respond? He offered to let you think about it, but deep down, deep in your heart, you had the answer. Your brain, on the other hand, questioned the feeling and unconsciously warned you something was wrong. You didn't listen to it. You knew what you wanted.
“Yes,” you said calmly. You shuffled closer to him and leaned over him, stroking his cheek and looking deep into his eyes, they lit up with satisfaction. “Yes, I'll move in with you.” You paused. “I love you, too, Hannibal.”
You leaned down and kissed him. You ran your hands through his hair as his rested his on the back of your head.
As the passionate kissing faded and the two of you drifted off in each others embrace, you questioned this life changing event. Was this an exciting new chapter in your life or the biggest mistake you ever made?