Kiss You Goodbye: Hannibal, Hannibal/Alana, pg-13
Title: Kiss You Goodbye
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: Hannibloom
Rating: pg-13
Author’s notes: The prompt was, “Can I kiss you?” The response is, “Someone hold me.” SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE.
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“Open your eyes, Alana.”
She struggled against darkness, blossoming black beneath her eyelids, filling her heart’s soul, her entire body with sooty coal. A nightmare enveloped her entire being; every muscle and bone screamed in agony. But nothing ached like her heart.
“Open your eyes, Alana.”
She struggled against the inky night in her mind. Her eyelids fluttered as his soothing voice attempted to pull her out of her stygian torment. She followed his voice down the river of her nightmare, the pain increasing as she moved further and further with the current towards the light.
“Open your eyes, darling.”
She opened her eyes. His face was mere inches from hers, his head framed in a halo of light from behind him. The fallen angel exhaled, his heavenly devil’s breath a whoosh on her face. She inhaled his scent and felt a rush of the keenest pleasure fill her body, flowing through her like water, not a roaring river but an analgesic brook. Then she noticed his hand on her morphine drip; he’d pushed the button to release the drug into her system.
“You did this to me.” She said it not in an accusatory tone, but rather, as one states a simple fact.
“Abigail did this to you. However, considering she was under my influence at the time, I suppose I did do this to you.”
He took her hand in his, and turned over her hand so that her palm faced up. His delicate yet rough fingers stroked her palm. A velvety shiver of pleasure radiated out from that palm. Was it the morphine or his touch, or perhaps the knowledge that she could feel something other than pain, that she could feel anything at all considering her push from the window, her fall? Perhaps it was all of the above.
His hand traced a path from her palm up her arm to her shoulder, then across her delicate neck to her flushed cheek, where it came to rest. Then he repeated his ministrations, down her cheek, her neck, her arm, and back up again. Each delicately traced path of his fingers sent an aftershock through her system, the post-earthquake vibrations shaking her very core. She felt woozy and leaned into his touch for comfort. Comfort from the devil.
“You would have killed me,” she whispered, her warm breath creating tiny droplets of mist on his flesh where his hand rested on her cheek.
“That was my intention. Yet I am elated that you are here, alive and…someday, well.” He paused, his eyes darting briefly to the door of her hospital room. “I must go. Can I kiss you goodbye, my dear?”
If she’d had the strength, she might have slapped him. But her physical strength was gone. More importantly, her emotional strength was sapped; like a spile he’d sucked the strength from her very core, her roots shriveled up and dead. She’d loved him, and loved him still, even in her current state.
She closed her eyes and parted her lips in assent. She felt his lips hover over hers, the intoxicating feeling of his heated breath the moment before his soft lips molded into hers like clay. His tongue darted out and touched the very tip of her tongue. Electricity flowed from his mouth to hers; her mouth was turned on like a light and she moved her lips against his, again and again. She breathed in his breath, and he in turn breathed in hers. She wanted to reach up and pull him to her, but the moment her arms started to move to grasp Hannibal, his lips left hers. She felt a dull ache in her chest, and her heated lips felt cold, so cold in the absence of him.
She sensed him leave the room, leave her life. But not her heart; her betrayer’s heart still held on to the love she felt for the killer.
“Open your eyes, Dr. Bloom.”
Alana opened her eyes to see not Hannibal but a nameless doctor standing at her bedside.
“You haven’t opened your eyes in two days, Doctor. We’re glad you could finally join us. Are you in pain?”
“Yes,” she couldn’t say. “Yes.” Because it was not physical pain she felt at that moment.
One tear trailed down Alana Bloom’s cheek. It burned hot like lava. Oh how it burned.
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: Hannibloom
Rating: pg-13
Author’s notes: The prompt was, “Can I kiss you?” The response is, “Someone hold me.” SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE.
-----------------------------
“Open your eyes, Alana.”
She struggled against darkness, blossoming black beneath her eyelids, filling her heart’s soul, her entire body with sooty coal. A nightmare enveloped her entire being; every muscle and bone screamed in agony. But nothing ached like her heart.
“Open your eyes, Alana.”
She struggled against the inky night in her mind. Her eyelids fluttered as his soothing voice attempted to pull her out of her stygian torment. She followed his voice down the river of her nightmare, the pain increasing as she moved further and further with the current towards the light.
“Open your eyes, darling.”
She opened her eyes. His face was mere inches from hers, his head framed in a halo of light from behind him. The fallen angel exhaled, his heavenly devil’s breath a whoosh on her face. She inhaled his scent and felt a rush of the keenest pleasure fill her body, flowing through her like water, not a roaring river but an analgesic brook. Then she noticed his hand on her morphine drip; he’d pushed the button to release the drug into her system.
“You did this to me.” She said it not in an accusatory tone, but rather, as one states a simple fact.
“Abigail did this to you. However, considering she was under my influence at the time, I suppose I did do this to you.”
He took her hand in his, and turned over her hand so that her palm faced up. His delicate yet rough fingers stroked her palm. A velvety shiver of pleasure radiated out from that palm. Was it the morphine or his touch, or perhaps the knowledge that she could feel something other than pain, that she could feel anything at all considering her push from the window, her fall? Perhaps it was all of the above.
His hand traced a path from her palm up her arm to her shoulder, then across her delicate neck to her flushed cheek, where it came to rest. Then he repeated his ministrations, down her cheek, her neck, her arm, and back up again. Each delicately traced path of his fingers sent an aftershock through her system, the post-earthquake vibrations shaking her very core. She felt woozy and leaned into his touch for comfort. Comfort from the devil.
“You would have killed me,” she whispered, her warm breath creating tiny droplets of mist on his flesh where his hand rested on her cheek.
“That was my intention. Yet I am elated that you are here, alive and…someday, well.” He paused, his eyes darting briefly to the door of her hospital room. “I must go. Can I kiss you goodbye, my dear?”
If she’d had the strength, she might have slapped him. But her physical strength was gone. More importantly, her emotional strength was sapped; like a spile he’d sucked the strength from her very core, her roots shriveled up and dead. She’d loved him, and loved him still, even in her current state.
She closed her eyes and parted her lips in assent. She felt his lips hover over hers, the intoxicating feeling of his heated breath the moment before his soft lips molded into hers like clay. His tongue darted out and touched the very tip of her tongue. Electricity flowed from his mouth to hers; her mouth was turned on like a light and she moved her lips against his, again and again. She breathed in his breath, and he in turn breathed in hers. She wanted to reach up and pull him to her, but the moment her arms started to move to grasp Hannibal, his lips left hers. She felt a dull ache in her chest, and her heated lips felt cold, so cold in the absence of him.
She sensed him leave the room, leave her life. But not her heart; her betrayer’s heart still held on to the love she felt for the killer.
“Open your eyes, Dr. Bloom.”
Alana opened her eyes to see not Hannibal but a nameless doctor standing at her bedside.
“You haven’t opened your eyes in two days, Doctor. We’re glad you could finally join us. Are you in pain?”
“Yes,” she couldn’t say. “Yes.” Because it was not physical pain she felt at that moment.
One tear trailed down Alana Bloom’s cheek. It burned hot like lava. Oh how it burned.