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For three days, the creature had been hanging around the house. Three days of that wretched thing mewling and trilling at him, though Hannibal was certain he hadn’t done a thing to encourage it.
It was still there when Hannibal returned late that evening, later than usual, and it nearly tripped him as he walked to his front door. He looked down and regarded the kitten with disdain, his first instinct to snap its neck and be done with it.
But it trilled again, rubbed against his leg and sat by the door, its large green eyes set on him, expectant. Hannibal sighed and opened the door.
“Well, go on then,” he said, gesturing the cat in as though it understood. It seemed to, anyway; it trilled at him again, tail high in the air as it ran into the house.
His mobile rang as he closed the door behind him and hung up his jacket.
“Hello, Will.”
“Hey.” An awkward pause. The cat meowed loudly from somewhere in the house, presumably the kitchen. Clever thing.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“Was that a cat?”
“... Yes.” Hannibal entered the kitchen and began rifling through a cabinet to find a suitable bowl. The cat meowed louder, rubbing against his ankle.
“Why is there a cat? Are you at home?” There was a tremor in Will’s voice - he was trying not to laugh.
“Yes, it… seems to have decided to impose itself on me.”
“It’s not an it, Hannibal. Did you check if it has balls?” Will didn’t try to stop the chuckle that time.
Hannibal grunted in annoyance, but bent to check behind the cat. “It appears to be female.”
“What are you gonna name her?”
“I’m not keeping her.”
“Sure you aren’t. Why’d you let her in, then?”
Hannibal hesitated. Too long, it seemed, because he heard Will let out another laugh, a warm and fond sort of sound that twisted something in Hannibal’s chest.
“Hannibal?”
“I thought… it’s what you might do. It seemed to…” Hannibal trailed off, irritated.
“Seemed to…?”
“Need me.”
“And you thought of me?”
“Yes.”
There was another pause between them, and Hannibal was horrified at the uncertainty that clawed at his insides. He thought he should hang up, but Will cut in.
“You don’t have litter, do you?”
Ugh. Hannibal winced. “I do not.”
“All right, how about I pick some up for you and stop by?”
“That would be… acceptable. Yes.”
“A thank you would be nice.”
“I’ll thank you when you arrive,” Hannibal said, and he ended the call, looking down at the cat. “Now, what shall we feed you?”
He realized that Will never told him why he had called in the first place.