cynoclept

praeda fragosa in unguis aes

Hannibal approached the base of the stairs, keeping enough distance between them that his influence didn’t bleed into Will’s work. Any other time, he gloried in Will’s tolerance of him so deep within his personal space that the doctor was practically beneath his skin. But being close now, would it give Will too much insight? Would he turn his head and see Hannibal out of the corner of his eye rather than Garrett Jacob Hobbs?
Will’s fingers moved against the wall and the paint flakes fell away like dead skin.
“A resourceful use of unusual building material, though I must fault the aesthetics,” Hannibal commented, his eyes on Will’s movements, on the angles of his knees, neck, hips. “At least they didn’t opt to add a wedding chapel. If you could wish for something at that well, what would you wish for, Will?”

have you ever

Light was bleeding slowly from underneath the door, seeping through its cracks and around its corners like water trickling downhill. He watched it with eyes cushioned in shadow, an animal protected by sallow skin and silent hands, beginning to sweat in the song of sunlight.

What would you wish for?

He was downhill. The light was spilling faster now, running ahead of dawn along the wells in the floorboards. His feet shied away from its low reach, retreating deeper into the soft groan of rafters and the musky smell of curing smoke, but the ground beneath his feet sank with each heavy step. The light slowed to a tremble, scenting the shadows as it slowly tipped towards gravity, and began to flow back towards him.

It overlooks the—

“Mn.”

Indistinct noise; indistinct thought.

Will tasted water and ozone at the back of his tongue, and blinked again. There was space around him, space and trapped air like a low ceiling in winter.

“…what?” he muttered. It was the word in his mouth, one he felt like he was repeating, except without the recollection of having spoken it at all.