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Hannibal regarded Will; arm outstretched in hesitance. The question was silent as was typical of their conversation in the last few days.
Do you need my assistance?
Will inhaled sharply and turned his head pointedly away from the older man. The abrupt shift jostled his aching face and he pressed the heel of his damp palm into his forehead hard enough for tiny swirls of light to explode in his vision. The pain ebbed and throbbed as the ibuprofen dissolved in his veins.
It was moments like this that Will despised. The concern and worry painted in vivid strokes across Hannibal’s face was enough to turn his stomach despite the booze he had thrown back at the pub without regard for his sobriety.
Hannibal, to his mercy, simply nodded his head and turned away from the younger man who was swaying in place at the front door of the villa. Although the scent of cheap whiskey filled his nose, he did not voice his disdain, instead, choosing to continue stirring the pot in front of him methodically. The aroma of pureed tomatoes swirled above them both. Looking away from the stovetop, Hannibal turned his head to the window overlooking the side garden, ears perked in case his companion decided to speak; the afternoon sun was beating down on the palm trees lining the perimeter of the villa.
The heat was unforgiving and in that moment, Hannibal longed to be sitting under one of the tall trees, instead of standing here, in the inferno that his kitchen became. The scent of Will’s sweat soaked skin mixed with the sourness of the whiskey he no doubt had while out in the town, and Hannibal resisted the urge to tell him to take repose in the lounge. Will lingered behind Hannibal, a few feet away, shifting his weight, and ultimately deciding to just lean against the doorway, hip cocked. As Hannibal continued his lunch preparations, Will debated going to his room and taking a nap but the aroma of tomato stew beckoned him to stay.
Needing to collect a few herbs from his garden, Hannibal located his herb shears and brushed past Will towards the door. The movement made Will open his eyes where he had been drifting off, and he mumbled underneath his breath and turned to walk towards the sink.
Fucking finally.
The sink was a gorgeous chrome double basin affair that Hannibal had no doubt had custom made to suit his ridiculous kitchen without thought about how the industrial sink would look in their rustic villa. Will quickly wrenched open the cabinet directly under said sink and fumbled around for the tiny bottle he stashed behind the many bottles of disinfectant and soap that Hannibal stored there.
Grunting in exertion, Will’s fingers finally met the plastic bottle, and he slammed the door shut, immediately dry-swallowing two of the white pills. Wincing in discomfort, Will slowly walked out of the kitchen, shuffling his feet as Hannibal shut the side door and re-entered, basil leaves clutched in his long fingers.
Noticing Will’s retreating form, he frowned, lingering in the kitchen doorway as his eyes followed the younger man trudge up the six marble steps to his bedroom. Will shut the heavy wooden door with a resounding click.
Hannibal placed the clipped leaves on the counter, turned the stove off and began plating his meal. The simple dish was sufficient for a simple man and he believed that Will would appreciate its construction. In hopes that Will would eat the meal he prepared, Hannibal dutifully poured the stew into a jade green bowl, laid out a spoon and a napkin on a serving tray, covered it with a lid and left the offering just outside of the closed door.
Before retreating to his own study, Hannibal kneeled next to the tray, and peeked at the crack between the bottom of the door and the tiled floor. There was no movement from within to signal that Will was awake or that he had heard Hannibal. With his mouth downturned, Hannibal gingerly got off the floor and dusted his slacks. Perhaps Will was asleep.
In the quiet of his room, with the curtains drawn, Will stripped down to his boxers and climbed into his plush bed, curling in on his side, he watched the rustle of the palm trees in the gentle wind.