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Summary
“As a merciful patron, I believe in forgiveness,” Hannibal flexed his hands inside of his gloves, stepping before Will. Will closed his eyes.
Hannibal reached out with a gloved hand to firmly grasp both sides of Will’s face between his thumb and forefinger. Will panted out a breath at the new pressure surrounding his cheeks, shuddering and wilting away from Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal tilted his head and forced Will’s to do the same within his hand, putting awkward strain on Will’s neck from the exaggeration of it. Will choked in response, weakly rattling the cuffs around his wrists. Tears squeezed from the corners of his screwed-shut eyes.
“Beg for this absolution. With every knowing part of you,” Hannibal lifted his hand, and with one swift crack, he delivered a heavy strike of his palm across Will’s cheek, “make me understand how sorry you are for what you have done.”