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Abigail wasn't brave enough to pout, but she did allow the sides of her mouth to downturn slightly. It would give the same message.
“Hannibal, there is absolutely nothing to do here.”
For three painfully long months, Hannibal Lecter kept her locked up in a house conveniently placed in the middle of nowhere. As charming as the house was, she began to despise the large windows and the breathtaking view just beyond them. It was taunting her, serving as a constant reminder of what she could not have.
With no one else to keep her preoccupied, she had become all too familiar with boredom and fear. Fear coursed through her body for the first few days, leaving her trembling and weak. She couldn’t help but resent the man that kept her there.
Still, the fear slowly began to subside as she saw Hannibal every week. With groceries in hand and kind pleasantries offered, he was the carefully crafted picture of kindness. She was always on her best behavior, graciously accepting the supplies and keeping the conversation alive. It began to be easier as time passed and a rapport was rebuilt. She suspected that she was growing on Hannibal. He began to get her little things he thought she would enjoy, watching her reaction with the eyes of a father.
She could occasionally afford to be brave now.
Hannibal simply regarded her. “Then what do you propose?”
“I’m not sure. I appreciate the books and movies but they only last for so long.” With a small strike of foolish bravery, she added, “and I haven’t seen another person in months.”
Hannibal nodded his head once. “You see me every week, but I understand the sentiment. If you would like for me to stay a little longer, I would be happy to comply. I could also see your desire for something more substantial.”
“I do enjoy seeing you every week. It’s one of the few small things to look forward to. It’s just– there is a limitation to the things you would want to do with me.”
Hannibal’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sure we could figure something out.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we could,” Abigail said with a small smile, tone dejected.
“What would you propose if you had someone a bit closer in age?”
Abigail shrugged, considering the question. “Marissa and I would usually just sit and talk, watch movies to laugh at together, occasionally do each other’s makeup. Silly teenage girl stuff.”
“I don’t see why I can’t do any of those things,” Hannibal replied very seriously.
Abigail let out a small laugh. “You’d let me do your makeup?”
“If it would make you happy. I can’t see any reason why I shouldn’t allow you to.”
Abigail blinked, surprise filling her eyes. “Really?”
Hannibal only nodded like it made complete sense.
The girl paused for a moment, still processing. “Well, alright. Sure. I can go grab my stuff?” she proposed.
“Alright,” is the only thing he said before he resumed his activity of putting up the groceries. Usually, Abigail helped him, but today seemed to be an exception.
A few moments later, she emerged from the hall with a large desk organizer in hand. It rattled with millions of little products. She set the box of makeup on the kitchen table and began busying herself with setting up a little station. The light from the windows was optimal, but she brought a circular lamp as well.
Hannibal watched the young girl work with a bemused expression. Once he completed his task, he moved towards the table.
Hannibal gracefully sat in the chair directly opposite her. His eyes filled with amused anticipation as he surveyed the setup before him. He had not truly realized how much makeup one could have. There were a seemingly never-ending amount of small bottles, square pans of something he presumed to be eyeshadow, assorted brushes, and all sorts of other products. He was admittedly intrigued, diving into a world he never had any reason to consider before.
Abigail watched him take it all in. Not sure how to progress, she allowed him to take the reins.
“Do you have any ideas about what you want?” Abigail inquired.
“No, I can’t say I do. Whatever you think is best.” Hannibal replied, eyes still assessing all of the things before him.
“Well, alright. I think we’ll skip the base, foundation and such.” Abigail began, pointing at the products mentioned. “I have a much fairer complexion than you do. It might look a little silly.”
Hannibal simply nodded once. It was an odd feeling to be in a space where he didn’t know more than the other person. He had so vigorously avoided such times, but now he’s actively getting himself into them. Of course, throughout his life, he had learned things here and there about cosmetics, but it was still not a fraction of what Abigail understood.
At the lack of a response, Abigail just continued. “Next would be contour. You already have very well-defined features, but it still looks nice.”
She grabbed for a specific palette and brush, dipping it into the warm brown powder once before bringing it slowly to Hannibal’s face. There was a hesitancy in the way she moved, movements stiffened with anxiety. Hannibal did his best to be still and allow her space to overcome her fears.
“It might tickle a bit, just so you know.” Abigail supplied with a smile. “Do you mind…?” She trailed off as she motioned to her touching his face.
“No, not at all.” He responded as she slowly tilted his chin to the side. A soft brush began tracing over the naturally deep shadows, precise and slow.
Both people were quiet as Abigail continued working. There was an easy routine she soon fell into, simply following steps she had a million times before. Hannibal was a wonderful sitter, patient and still. The last realization made a slight shiver run down her spine. He was inhumanly still. Not a person, but a predator. The reminder was necessary.
“I was honestly surprised when you agreed to this,” Abigail said quietly, mind occupied with concentration, disrupting the long-held silence.
“I can’t say I could have predicted ending up here. I am in no way mad, I often make a point to and enjoy gaining new experiences. This is just one more experience. I have to admit, I have always harbored a curiosity for femininity. I always found myself drawn to beautiful things, and this is just one more thing.”
Abigail considered this for a moment. “I suppose that makes sense. I’m glad that you agreed to this. I’m having fun.”
“Even more reason for me to say yes, then.”
An earnest smile tugged on the corners of her mouth, even as she fought to hide it. “Are there any things you’re not open to me doing? Getting too close to your eye and such?”
“Is there anything I should be concerned about?” Hannibal asked with mild amusement.
“Oh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Then I have no limitations for you.”
Abigail smiled as she grabbed a long, thin black pen.
They spent the good part of two hours doing Hannibal’s makeup. Abigail appreciated how well Hannibal behaved the entire time, taking everything in stride.
Hannibal kept having to mentally adjust to someone making contact with him, especially on his face, especially while his eyes were closed. He would know if Abigail had any plans on doing something she shouldn’t, but the action still felt profound. Each time she repositioned his face, he couldn’t help the way his mind savored the feeling of skin against his own, selfless and kind. He was struggling to pinpoint the last time he had experienced something similar.
Before he could stop himself, he heard himself talking. “This reminds me a lot of my sister.”
“Oh. I wasn’t aware you have one.” She muttered softly.
He couldn’t bring himself to correct her. “Family is something I like to keep private. She’s incredibly dear to me. We were inseparable during childhood.” And that’s all he is going to tell her. A sense of unease was already settling in his stomach, he did not need to worsen it. Mischa was his and he had no interest in sharing her.
“Family is important,” Abigail said mildly, not wanting to dig for more information. This already seemed far beyond what Hannibal usually shared.
As the memories began to weigh heavier and heavier in his mind, he continued. “She was very curious as a child. She had a similar appreciation for beauty. She admired our mother with stars in her eyes, even if she so rarely saw her. She would steal her makeup. When we were very young, she begged to put some on me. I couldn’t bring myself to say no. My mother happened to find us and was affronted by her son dabbling in anything feminine. Mischa was riddled with childish guilt, just for having fun.” Everything was said with an apathetic detachment, but the pain remained in his eyes.
Abigail allowed the confession to fully set it. The story was more personal than anything Hannibal had ever given her before. Even he seemed a little startled by his own words.
“Well, I think you look beautiful.” It seemed like the most appropriate response.
Snapping out of the walls of his mind, Hannibal looked back at the girl in front of him with a small smile. She held his eyes, still searching for more. She wasn’t expecting him to be honest with her, it was slightly unsettling.
“I appreciate you for giving me the opportunity,” Hannibal responded softly.
“Well, we’re not done quite yet.”
Hannibal raised his eyebrows, unsure of what else there was to do. His face felt thoroughly covered with an assortment of products.
Abigail only looked at him with a glint in her eye and returned to her box. After a few moments of rummaging, she produced a thin, rectangular box and another small tube. She slid out the plastic inside the box, revealing fake eyelashes.
This was the first time Hannibal felt a bit unsure. Sensing the unease, Abigail immediately began to comfort the man, saying that they were safe and on the more conservative side, as far as false eyelashes go. Unwilling to tell her no, Hannibal simply nodded again.
As soon as they were secured, he felt different. They had a unique heft to them, slightly weighing down his eyelids. Overcompensating for the weight, he opened his eyes too wide and they tickled his eyebrow bone. He didn’t like the feeling.
Abigail was delighted. There was a pure glee that filled her eyes, watching the man before him. Soft laughs of disbelief fell out of her mouth as she assessed the situation. A part of Hannibal was waiting for her to pinch herself to see if she was awake.
“I think we’re done. Are you ready to see?” Abigail asked, voice light with amusement.
Hannibal wasn’t quite sure how to answer honestly. “I’m excited to see your work.”
She turned the mirror with a bit of flare, excited to see his reaction.
Hannibal was suddenly very glad his body no longer had unwanted physical reactions to things. His reflection was practically a jumpscare. It was not like anything that he was expecting, the young girl clearly had both talent and ambition. His eyes were beautifully dramatic. A sharp, black wing extended from both of his eyes, complimenting the natural curves of his face. The lashes fluttered as he blinked. Crimson red stained his lips, accentuating them more than he was used to. The inner corners of his eyes and his cheekbones shimmered subtly. It all seamlessly worked together in harmony to make him look breathtaking.
His heart fluttered at the realization that he felt pretty.
He looked back to the young girl who was quietly surveying him. There were no appropriate words for how Hannibal felt. Instead of trying, a huge smile broke across his face. The girl immediately returned the sentiment.
“How do you feel?” She asked tentatively.
“I feel beautiful.” He responded quietly. A confession of sorts.
“I’m so glad because you look beautiful.” She said unabashedly.
Hannibal’s heart fluttered again. No one had ever called him beautiful before. He was surprised by the intensity with which it impacted him. He wanted to be called beautiful again. It was unlike anything he had ever considered possible for himself before. All his life, he had been chasing after beauty. It was something he devoted himself to. Now, for this moment, he was beautiful.
They sat for a moment.
Hannibal reviewed the makeup before him. “What do we do now?”
Abigail considered his question for a moment. “I have clip-on earrings and some other stuff in my bathroom if you’re interested.”
Hannibal’s eyes glittered at the opportunity. “Only if you’d like to.”
For the first time, Abigail saw right through him. “I’d love to.”
***
After the shock of Abigail being alive wore off, Will was unbelievably relieved to see the girl again. A million and one questions naturally followed, which Abigail was all too excited to answer.
Neither one of them was Hannibal’s biggest fan at the moment, which was fair enough.
Abigail recounted all sorts of information about the house Hannibal kept her at, how it was boring, and how she began to despise the view of the ocean. She explained how Hannibal seemingly didn’t know how to choose a non pretentious book or film, which Will was already all too aware of.
Over the duration of their conversation, Abigail kept looking directly into Hannibal’s eyes, tempting him to speak up. Defend himself. He didn’t. There was a certain kind of fatherly pride that came with each vengeful glance. She was always a fast learner. After Abigail was done with everything she could remember to tell the other man, Hannibal silently exhaled, thankful that she spared him the retelling of a more vulnerable moment.
Sensing the relief Hannibal felt, she took out a single polaroid picture and began towards Will. Hannibal merely watched her, unwilling to give her the reaction she desired.
“Oh, Hannibal allowed me to do one more thing. Wanna see?” She asked Will innocently as she slid the polaroid in front of him.
One glance down and a sharp bark of laughter burst out of the other man. He immediately looked back at Hannibal, amazement filling his features. Hannibal only responded with an unbothered smile.
The initial shock worn off, Will continued to study the polaroid with such intensity. Hannibal almost thought to feel embarrassed, the way the man stared down at him. Like he was etching every detail into his mind to keep forever. Hannibal liked the picture enough, he felt quite nice when it was taken. He was in a dress Abigail had, skin tight and back wide open from being unable to be zipped. The shadows in the photo made his face makeup more dramatic and he appreciated the air of mystery it created. The light hit one of the earrings just perfectly, making it glint. Of course, the picture was a bit silly but that was half of the fun.
“Wow Hannibal, you looked really nice,” Will remarked with amusement.
Hannibal felt himself blush. “Thank you.”
“Quite beautiful.” Abigail supplied.
“Quite a beauty indeed.” Will confirmed, his southern accent peaking out.
“Thank you.” Hannibal repeated, unable to think other than Will calling him beautiful on replay. The smile that emerged on his face was almost bashful as he looked at the other man. Helplessly charmed, Will simply smiled back.
Quite a beauty indeed.