isola: 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘰𝘭𝘥_𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 ( 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 ) (vino - viii)
m̶u̶r̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶m̶a̶g̶n̶e̶t̶ ( 𝚠. 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚖 ) ([personal profile] isola) wrote in [community profile] rhodos_meme 2022-08-23 06:34 am (UTC)

I wasn’t talking to you.

{ It’s more of a mumble and there’s an honesty that burns at the tip of his tongue as he speaks. The instilled jarring state he’s found is more prevalent than the smell of smoke from the bonfire or the appearances of creatures around them.

He doesn’t look at Hannibal at first, not while the words sweep at his feet. He stares quietly at the offered handkerchief. How long as it been? Jack’s request is fresh, of which he attempted to settle his faded obsessions, to find a sense of peace that will never be meant for him. His brief travels took him to places he didn’t intend, and somewhere along those travels (his imminent search), he ended up here.

Will has been caught off guard before, but not like this. It’s premature something in him whispers. His fingers curl into the seam of his pants, scratching along the fabric, needing something to lure him back. }


They’re alive. { Jack and Alana, but not Abigail; truths that need to be said to get out of the way. Cold facts. He is compelled to take the handkerchief and with it he wipes the blood he can smell on the corner of his mouth. The copper taste is mocking. He wonders if he should take his chances out there, to run from the conversation. Parts of Will are split. Upon finally meeting Hannibal’s gaze, Will decides to remain for now. His voice is intentionally neutral as he subtlety clutches the handkerchief at the ends of it. }

You should have killed me. It’s your sloppiest work.

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