Amy Pond. The girl who waited. All night in your garden. Was it worth it?
I am the original.
I am the light.
I should have died with him.
♤ : Cooking headcanon
will did wonder why abigail seemed so enthusiastic about taking up hannibal’s offer to cook. he supposed this was in line with the idea of making new memories in place of traumatic ones, which would account for the particular delight she was taking when hannibal offered a spoonful of something of another for her to taste, and the energy she was taking in slicing up a piece of bloody meat.
when she jerks back from the table with a cry of pain, will is up and next to her even before hannibal.
“i cut my finger,” she turns to him, slipping the digit into pursed, unhappy lips.
will doesn’t even stop to think, drawing out the finger and bringing it to his mouth and presses a kiss against the sliced skin. “there, all better.”
abigail doesn’t move away, eyes wide and startled. it’s only the soft, questioning “will,” from hannibal that rouses them from their daze.
the food tastes exceptionally exquisite, that night. hannibal compliments abigail on her skill, while will remains silent, unable to manage more than a few bites from his plate, the taste of her blood still fresh on his tongue.