[ Hannibal's interest veers only into the sharpest: in minds, in natures, in weaponry. It was Will's misfortune to possess qualities from all three, to be pliable toward having them coaxed into the forefront and have Will exist as a triality, perfectly balanced because Hannibal willed it so, with careful hands serving as whetstones. Pride comes before a fall, and the grounds that Hannibal desecrate with blood will be the same that turn fertile with life he could not predict.

From a moment of Will's desperation, Hannibal has already steeled the strings against failure. Hot with shame, frigid with bitterness, Will is punished for his lack of foresight and feels his limbs dance to instruction no matter how he pulls against them. They bind and cut, and all that snaps so far is Will himself, disengaging from a confrontation he was not ready for and can't afford to take further loss on.

Withdrawing to the door handle is a controlled descent. What part of Will's shivering, bright eyed boy mask is an act isn't known to him; for authenticity it's better he doesn't. He pulls the tattered shreds of defiance to clothe it, sharpened, warped black claws slipping through gaps in the fabric. Will would make a show of warning him against it as a last act of the exchange, if Hannibal would perform heeding. ]

Intimacy with a murderer - [ He almost balks on the word, thick through the ghost of alleged shrouding it. ] - from anyone can be forcibly taken. It doesn't entitle you to my trust for the sole reason that you are the only one that reaches for it.

It does, however, behoove you to be careful what you take. Unorthodox methods or not.