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Summary
“You are beautiful, aren’t you?” The voice was low and dark, and Hannibal could barely focus on it from the water he was coughing up. It almost didn’t seem real.
He was stupid; he shouldn’t have gone on deck by himself. He knew it wasn’t safe, but the stupidity of youth had told him he was a man who could handle being up on deck by himself. He didn’t expect the way the waves would rock the water, and how easily his body is flung off the bow.