Hot and Cold; Are you getting warmer?

[eats_the_rude]

Who: Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham
When: One December day
Where: A Sector 3 cafe, near the Longfellow Museum
Summary: eats_the_rude & eidetic_graham at a cafe. What's the worst that could happen?
Warnings: Lecter.

Comments

[eidetic_graham]

Standing in the busy city square, Will Graham was a bundled and bewildered invalid amongst a sea of locals. Places like these used to be his turf, where the multiple sights and sounds and smells and actions of others all relayed a thousands stories unto which he could grasp but one and find the lead he needed in a crucial case. After years of deafening himself to the noise with the gentle buzz brought on by a case of Dos Equis, much of it was nonsense. Garbled faces and disjointed resounds

[eats_the_rude]

With the patience only a man like Lecter could possess he examines the other's face at length from beneath the brim of his signature white fedora, the place in which he sat making it ideal for reading the flicker of fear and anger to cross Will's features before it molded into something else entirely.

He's pleased to note Will is wearing one of the sweaters he bought for him.

Staring down from his perch with slight amusement as the man conducts a desperate search for the ever elusive doctor, Lecter's fingers move across the keys with more grace than one might imagine.

Cold. You're getting colder.

[eidetic_graham]

The hot and cold game was one of Josh's favorites. Will however was a pro at it and was often told by his boy to stop cheating everytime he was found after the first try. Daddy was eventually banned from playing till he could learn to lose.

Glancing upwards, he made a quick assessment of the sun's position to calculate the exact time of day. His eyes then shifted to the names of every establishment around him.

Something French. Something that shouted money, and he was far too much of a plebeian to set foot there. Inadvertently, he saw the museum he was looking for the moment he had put his eidetic mind to work. Lecter, without even mentioning it, could awaken that part of Graham with just one quiet and chilling pry.

...It's about tea-time, 4pm on the dot. I imagine they don't have much for imports here, do they, Dr. Lecter?

[eats_the_rude]

He sat on the veranda, near the railing to his credit, his eyes meeting Will's across the way. He lifted a tea cup up in salutation, knowing Graham's perceptions to be much keener than he cared to admit.

You've a good eye, Will.

The crisp white suit he was dressed in made for an easy target, though it was also very complimentary with his hat and sunglasses. He knew and enjoyed fashion to its utmost advantage. Hence, the waitress who was giving him the eye across the way.

You'd make a spectacular detective, you know.

Was that a hint of a smile on his face from the second story of the cafe? He did so like to tease.

It's surprisingly palatable.