[ she'd weighed this, he said. thought about every potential response and counter-response. there's a part of her that is still frozen and unwilling to move even from where she stands, for fear that the moment she takes a step forward will be her own undoing. she'd lost consciousness only once before, after her patient lay dead on the floor of her home. and while she may not have been the one to snap anthony dimmond's neck - but her actions had led to this moment, without question. it was what she had envisioned would transpire, and now they've reached the point of no return. she can't close her eyes and re-open them to a different world.
her one solace now is that she believes hannibal did not intend this man to experience any unnecessary suffering. in fact, a part of her believes that hannibal actually liked the man. if it had not been for the fact that his secret had been exposed, she's convinced they could have carried on something resembling an acquaintanceship (even if dimmond had been under the impression that he'd been invited in for more than a mere repast).
suddenly she's shivering - but it isn't from the lack of her coat or anything resembling a chill. a tear continues its descent in a slow roll down the curve of one cheek. she reaches up with one hand to flick it away, her gaze unwavering at the trail of blood leading to the door. her first instinct may not necessarily be his own, and she swallows once, trying to get her bearings.
she steels herself. looks to him with her chin lifted and her eyes wet, but clear. ]
Taking care of - the body. [ she'd almost slipped, attached a name to it and thus assigned herself that same degree of personal attachment. ]
no subject
her one solace now is that she believes hannibal did not intend this man to experience any unnecessary suffering. in fact, a part of her believes that hannibal actually liked the man. if it had not been for the fact that his secret had been exposed, she's convinced they could have carried on something resembling an acquaintanceship (even if dimmond had been under the impression that he'd been invited in for more than a mere repast).
suddenly she's shivering - but it isn't from the lack of her coat or anything resembling a chill. a tear continues its descent in a slow roll down the curve of one cheek. she reaches up with one hand to flick it away, her gaze unwavering at the trail of blood leading to the door. her first instinct may not necessarily be his own, and she swallows once, trying to get her bearings.
she steels herself. looks to him with her chin lifted and her eyes wet, but clear. ]
Taking care of - the body. [ she'd almost slipped, attached a name to it and thus assigned herself that same degree of personal attachment. ]
It shouldn't stay there, Hannibal.