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Title: Simmering
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: Charloft prompt challenge, tv_universe
Prompt: Monster
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue. soar***
How dare she? How dare she?
Will practically stomped up the steps to his house, jamming the keys into the lock and opening the front door. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been so angry; he'd had to restrain the angry words, bite his tongue until he'd made it out to his car.
And he had cursed all the way back to Wolf Trap.
That bitch had called Hannibal a monster. She'd said that he was enslaving Will, that he no longer had any will or mind of his own now that he was involved with Hannibal. She had leveled all kinds of insults at Will's lover, barely stopping for breath.
Oh, he had been so right not to keep pursing a relationship with her. He'd never really wanted one, anyway. He had just been making an attempt to be "normal."
He had wanted Hannibal even when he had made the mistake of kissing her; she had been like a cold, dead, unresponsive fish, her lips dry and tasting of oily lipstick. It had been one of the most disgusting experiences of his life to kiss her.
And now she had repeatedly insulted the man he loved.
At the moment, all he wanted to do was bash her face into a wall. But of course, he couldn't do that' he'd refrained from even saying a word until she'd finished her tirade against Hannibal. Then, and only then, had he said a few words, then turned and walked away.
He had told her that she was a lying, jealous bitch, called her a piece of shit, and told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn't fit to breathe the same air as Hannibal Lecter. He had sneered at her, looked down his nose, and backed away.
She disgusted him. Just remembering the fact that he'd kissed her, even though it had been months ago, made him want to wash his mouth out with soap, scrub his lips until they bled.
Hannibal was no monster. Hannibal was the man he loved.
She was simply jealous, he told himself, slamming the door behind him as he entered the house. She was jealous that he had found someone he could truly love, and she was angry that she could no longer tease him and then back away.
Not that he cared. He hadn't cared when she had done it before. He had long ago lost interest in anything to do with her; he really hadn't had an interest in the first place. He had simply been trying to be what all the people around him thought he should be.
A man who wanted to be with a woman. Will's lips curved into a smile, and he could feel a laugh bubbling up within him. That was a laugh. He had never really wanted to be with a woman -- or any other man, for that matter, until Hannibal had come into his life.
Hannibal was all he had ever wanted. They'd started out as friends, but now that they were lovers, Will had never been happier with his life.
She was angry about that, too. Angry that she could no longer look down on him and pity him.
The fact that someone could speak so disrespectfully of the man he loved made Will literally see red; there was a haze in front of his eyes that had been there ever since the words had come out of her mouth. He was sure that it wouldn't go away for a while.
Hannibal was no monster. Hannibal was the man who held his heart, and anyone who couldn't accept that had no place in his life. Anyone who could speak that way to his face about his lover wasn't a friend; to Will, they were lower than dirt.
Even though he knew that the words had been spoken out of spite and jealousy by someone who was far inferior to Hannibal, he was still incensed by them.
No one had the right to talk about his lover that way. No one.
What would Hannibal think when Will told him what she had said? But even as the thought came into his mind, Will knew that he wouldn't say anything about it. Not unless Hannibal somehow found out about those words and pushed him to tell.
He knew that his lover had a thick skin; Hannibal didn't seem to care what most people thought of him. And he knew that Hannibal didn't much like the bitch, either.
But that didn't make them any less hurtful. And he didn't want Hannibal to hear that those words had been spoken about him. Somehow, it didn't seem right. The words might slide off like water off of duck's feathers, but they would still have been acknowledged.
His lover wasn't a monster. It didn't matter what anyone else thought.
And it definitely didn't matter what that jealous, pouting bitch thought, Will told himself angrily. He wasn't ever going to listen to anything that she said again. She wasn't worth listening to, and her idiotic opinion of his relationship didn't matter.
He belonged to Hannibal, and vice versa. There was nothing monstrous about that. He was right where he wanted to be, and if anyone didn't like that, well then, they could stuff it.
Being angry wasn't going to get him anywhere. Will closed his eyes, taking deep breaths until he could feel his heart rate slowing. He was calming down now; that was good. He didn't want to see Hannibal with that anger still clinging to him.
But he still couldn't help feeling annoyed at what had been said.
It would take a while for that anger to go away, Will thought with a sigh. It would be there, simmering in the back of his mind. And if she said anything along those lines again, then she would really see a monster jumping out at her, claws extended to rip her apart.
Will smiled grimly at the thought. He was quite sure that he'd actually enjoy it.***
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