Chapter Text
Hannibal did not particularly like their local marketplace, it was an open space, with vast crowds of people. He had never been a fan of crowds. Too many wandering eyes and gossiping mouths; to analyze them, to tear them apart. Will on the other hand enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon sun, and the hum of the distant vendors calling out their wares. He almost resembled a child in a candy store as he wandered from stall to stall, inspecting small things that caught his attention.
There was a constant lively bustle about it, with vendors selling meats, wines, oils and especially fish. Hannibal could almost smell the ocean from where they stood. The buildings that surrounded the market were beautiful. Awe inspiring even. The stone was worn from centuries of erosion, but it still stood, sturdy and strong.
It wasn’t long before Will gravitated towards an antique hat shop of sorts. Hannibal would have never thought Will to have been someone who would so easily be carried away in such a store but he had visibly been wrong as he found himself lingering in the doorway and Will browsed hats of all kinds.
The hats were not simply headwear. Each told its own story. From stories of elegance and grace to those of adventure and excitement. These hats were each a piece of art in their own way, and so he was thoroughly offended when Will brought to him the most hideous hat he had ever laid his eyes on.
Before Hannibal could process Will’s intentions, the hat was on his head and Will was fighting to control his laughter. The hat itself was the ugliest of ugly. The most horrid hat in all of Italy. It was a monstrosity. An abomination. It was far too large for the largest of heads as it drooped down on Hannibal's face, partially blocking his vision. The color scheme was an assault to his visual senses, a blatant attack on the human psyche.
This is not a hat.
It is a crime.
He hadn’t realized his last few words had been said for all to hear until Will lost his battle and the laugh erupted from him. He was quick to cover his mouth in a last ditch effort to maintain his self control though failed as his shoulders shook and tears welled in his eyes. Hannibal himself was fighting a smile as he took hold of the hat and removed it.
Will was wiping his eyes as he spoke in a hushed whisper as though he were afraid to reawaken the fit of laughter, “I want it. I really do.”
Hannibal had no words, he would truly buy Will anything in this world other than the horrendous hat.
“C’mon don’t be so miserable, it really complimented your… eyes,” Will struggled to finish the sentence and Hannibal knew why. The hat complimented nothing. Absolutely nothing. It hadn’t anything to do with him, and everything to do with the hat. It was frankly appalling.
Hannibal had been able to guide Will away from the temptations of the hat and towards the food stands where the man was now picking out some of the finest fruits Hannibal had ever smelled. There was a rich smell of lemons. Lemons so sour that they could be tasted in the air. There was the smell of peaches. Peaches ripe and ready to eat - sweet and delicious. There was the smell of bananas, too. The aroma which dominated them all, was the smell of strawberries that Will was carefully picking out for himself and adding them into a small container that the store owner had provided him with.
Having bought the strawberries, Will made his way back to where Hannibal stood in a less lively corner. The man wasn’t looking at Hannibal as he focused on the strawberries in his small straw container, picking the sweetest of the bunch.
“Open,” Will had finally approached and though Hannibal had expected him to snack on the fruits, he hadn’t expected Will to share and let alone directly feed one to Hannibal. Always one to indulge himself though, he obliged.
It was a sweet gesture and yet equally intimate. The warmth of Will’s fingers lingered on Hannibal’s lips long after they were gone and Will had turned to continue walking. Hannibal took a moment to appreciate the man as he walked ahead. He strode through the streets of Florence with an air of confidence. The man was mesmerizing, and in a strange way, it was addicting. Before, when they had first met, it had been so very rare to see Will at ease as his eyes gleamed with joy.
Will was like a breath of fresh air to Hannibal. He was truly a perfect man.
There was a certain grace to the golden light of the setting sun. It made the stone pathways glisten like gold. It felt almost too pretty to be real. It was not just the light, either. The air was so still and serene, it could lull even the most restless of men into a deep slumber. Will had said he had done some research about Florence, he had been searching for tourist attractions of sorts. Neither of the men knew how long they would be staying in Florence despite how homely they felt.
They had left the tents of the market and were now in nearby streets littered with any kind of store someone could ever want, but the one Will chose was that of a record store. There was a quiet grace about the store as they entered. The floors looked to be polished marble, the shelves made of beautiful wood, and the walls were painted a cream though were barely visible over the records on display. Hannibal was struck by a sense of serenity. The store was like a temple. A shrine. And Will was like an acolyte, walking humbly through the aisles of records in reverence to the higher powers that be.
This place was a paradise for the soul. The music, the decor - it felt like it could be eternal. It was a haven for a weary soul like Will.
A song played on the display record player, and despite it not being to Hannibal’s liking, it seemed to captivate Will, drawing him into his own mind. Will was lost in the song. His eyes were closed and his shoulders were relaxed - he was completely immersed in the music. The way his lips moved along to the words told Hannibal that he was listening to the lyrics, and not simply the music itself. And Hannibal found himself drawn in. Both to Will and the lyrics which had consumed the man.
I say take the shot,
see this chance,
Feel the fire,
and let me have this dance with you.
He pulled Will in close, leaving their other bought items nearby on a decorative chair. Placing one hand to his shoulder and the other found its way to Will’s waist. His eyes snapped open at the contact and though he didn’t resist, he did scan the room for onlookers. Hannibal hadn’t thought of that, though he didn’t seem to mind the idea of people watching.
The song was not one meant for slow dancing, but in the arms of each other, neither of them really cared. They danced steadily, swaying with the music. Will had never been a dancer and Hannibal did not want for him to shy away at the idea of dancing, therefore he kept it easy. It didn’t seem to matter though as Will seemed completely and utterly lost in the moment – and so was Hannibal. His eyes had fluttered closed once more – he was dancing just as much with his heart as he was with his body. There seemed to be nobody else in the world.
Only Will and Hannibal.
The universe was theirs.
As the final notes rang out, Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s waist to steady the man. He was breathing heavily, and a slight sweat had formed on his forehead. His arms were linked around the back of Hannibal’s neck and he leaned in, resting his forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder as his breath fell onto Hannibal’s neck. A warm ghost of a whisper fell to Hannibal ears and his alone as Will let the closing lyrics fall from his lips long after the song had ended:
“I’d rot in hell with you,
if you’d just ask me to,
I love the shitty things we do together,
Live with me in this sin forever…”
Their trip to the market had been a success to Hannibal’s standard. Small snores escaped Will as he dozed off in the passenger seat, cradled in his arms sat the record to the song they had danced to and a nearly empty container of strawberries.
He had a new goal for once they arrived at home, this being to find the old record player that Hannibal knew he had kept somewhere in a storage box. He would dig it up and play the very same song endlessly if it meant they had the chance to experience what they had today.
The sky had slipped from the burnt orange of earlier to a dark blue, as though the morning glow was bidding them farewell after a long day.
Hannibal was left to think. About everything. About nothing.
About how he was the happiest he had ever been.