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Hannibal shivered, pulling the coat up to his neck and staring off into the sea.
One year.
He almost couldn’t believe things had happened as they had: the escape, the kill, and the fall.
There were nights where he was almost certain he’d merely imagined that look in Will’s eyes, those words, “It’s beautiful,” and the embrace they'd shared. The empty spot beside him always brought reality to the forefront, there as always, and he let himself dwell.
His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, the smell of the sea was overwhelming as he took it in.
“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
Hannibal didn’t open his eyes.
“Where else would I be?”
Will’s hand came to his and he shivered, clutching hard. “The water is cold.”
Hannibal opened his eyes and looked at Will, smiling widely. “It is.”
Will’s grip tightened. “I’m sorry.”
Hannibal shook his head, looking back out at the water. “I am not.”
They walked towards the water and felt the water pool around their ankles. “I am fearful to let go of you again.”
He felt Will’s lips against his hand. “You don’t have to this time.”
Hannibal pulled him close and they embraced, shaking against each other.
“Will.”
“I missed you,” Will said, breath warm against his ear.
Hannibal pressed his lips to Will’s cheek. “And I you.”
He pulled back, pressing his hand to Will’s cheek. The blood was warm, fresh, and Hannibal felt Will’s hand on his back touch the wounds on his.
“A hail of bullets,” Will chuckled, “I knew you wouldn’t go down without a fight.”
Hannibal smiled. “A dramatic death has always been in the cards for us both,” he pressed his fingers came under Will’s chin, “I did not want to make you wait for very much longer.”
Will kissed him then, hard and bruising, the taste a victory he’d never been allowed till now.
It felt well earned.
