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Title: Under His Spell
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: 17, Dirty
Author's Note: Sequel to "Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word."
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.
***Just thinking about being with Hannibal made him feel dirty.
Will closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, wishing that he didn't have to let reality sink in. He didn't want to think about the past.
He didn't want to think about all that Hannibal had been to him, all that he thought he had been to the other man. It was all so clear to him now. Hannibal had never truly loved him. Hannibal had meant to kill him. He was nothing more than another victim.
He'd been so stupid to think that such a monster could love. Even though he hadn't known what Hannibal was, he'd know there was something not quite right about them.
Their relationship had always felt off, always seemed slightly odd.
He should have been able to see what Hannibal was. He should have known that his lover was nothing more than an evil, unrepentant monster.
Oh, Hannibal could say all that he wanted that he would change, that he was sorry for what he had done. But Will had seen his eyes -- and there had been no genuine remorse there. He had only seen slyness and cunning, no real sorrow.
Hannibal had no heart. He was subhuman.
How could he have ever thought he loved someone like Hannibal? The man was nothing that Will had mistakenly thought he was.
He was a serial killer. A murderer. He only kept the guise of being a benevolent psychiatrist who helped people. He didn't want to actually help anyone.
It appalled Will that he had fallen under the spell of such evil.
He was appalled that he'd ever let Hannibal touch him. He had s strong urge to run into the bathroom, turn on the water in the shower as hot as he could get it, then get in and scrub himself until his skin was raw, trying desperately to rid himself of Hannibal's touch.
He felt dirty. He felt tainted. Knowing what he now knew, he was sure that he would always feel unclean, that he would never rid himself of that taint.
He would always hate himself for falling under Hannibal's spell.
Well, he couldn't change the past, Will told himself firmly. It was over and done. What he had to manage to do now was figure out what he would do about the future.
He wasn't going to let himself feel dirty. He hadn't known what Hannibal was, even though he somehow felt that his empathy should have given him some kind of clue. But it hadn't, and he wasn't going to blame himself for that. It would be counterproductive.
He had to decide just what he was going to do, what he would say. He had an obligation to two different sides, and he had no idea yet which one he would choose.
All he could do was hope that he'd make the right decision in the end.
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