Elizabeth Crawford, 19, is the adopted daughter of Jack and Phyllis Crawford. She has everything she ever wanted: loving family, a promising education, and her future career. Her world is turned upside down when she meets Hannibal Lecter, a forensic...
Who does this asshole think he is? Now, this confirms my suspicions of what his intentions are. Other people would call me insane to try to fight against this stranger that I only met once today, but he's a cocky know-it-all and has an obnoxious attitude towards people who are below his status. It didn't take me long to reach the house. When I arrived at the house, I saw that my mother's car was there. I park the car in the garage, grab my bag, and head into the house. My mother is in the kitchen, cooking tonight's dinner.
"Hello, Liz. How was work?"
Angrily, I throw my bag on the couch and go to sit down on the counter seat, with my head in between my hands.
"I'm angry at Dad. He has this arrogant forensic psychotherapist or some shit like that following us for the whole day. He dared to challenge me but questioned my education and mental state! UGH! I wanted to punch him so badly."
My mother chuckles and says,
"Calm down, or you'll have another headache. I'm sure he didn't mean to say those things to you. Here, have some sweet tea."
I love it when my mother brews sweet tea. She grabs a glass of ice and pours the tea. She even places in a crazy straw that you see at kid's parties.
"Mom, I'm not five anymore," I say.
"You will always be my cute little five-year-old to me."
I smile at my mother. She is a gorgeous woman, and she has a heart of gold. I adore her, and I always will. At that moment, all my anger went away. I was finally beginning to relax until I heard;
"What a beautiful home you have, Jack. I can't wait to meet your beautiful wife."
I almost spat out my tea when I heard the voice, his voice—the audacity of this arrogant man.
"Well! It is late. I'll take my dinner upstairs, and I got to go, Mom. See you later!" As I leave for my room and run up the stairs, I hear my father say,
"Elizabeth Belle Crawford, you get back down here this minute."
I roll my eyes and head back downstairs. Dad is standing at the base of the staircase, with his hands in his pocket.
"Hannibal is here, and he's going to have dinner with us. He also wants to say he's sorry and talk with you about what happened today." I sigh lightly and look over to the kitchen.
Hannibal is helping Mom with the cooking.
"Listen, you had a bad day, and you need to calm down. Now, go wash up, put on something semi-formal, and be nice to Hannibal."
I go back upstairs, and I change into a black lace shirt, jeans, and Coach tennis shoes since I'm at the house.
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I even fix my hair into a messy bun. As I am finishing brushing my teeth, I look in the mirror and say to myself,
"He can't say anything while he's here in your house. You are okay. You are enough. You are smarter than him." I take a deep breath and leave my room, walking downstairs to the dining room.
Mom served her famous rosemary roast chicken with mushrooms. I could never resist her cooking, but I was about to blow when I saw the seating arrangement.
"Ms. Crawford, may I tempt you with some Rosé?"
Dr. Lecter handed me a glass of my favorite wine: Rosè. I take the wine and mumble a 'thank you to him. I don't mean it sincerely, but for the sake of my Dad, I'll say what he wants to hear. Hannibal leans in close to me and whispers,
"Speak louder, my dear. Mumbling doesn't suit you."
As he leans away from me, Mom and Dad bring the chicken and the side dishes out of the oven. I promised my father I would be nice. It's not like me to clam up. I'm very outspoken, but tonight, it's different. Almost foreign. I wanted to cry. We proceeded to eat our dinner. Mom and Dad were gushing over Hannibal's upbringing and his education. I sat quietly and ate my chicken. I got up from my chair to get a third refill of Rosè when Dad said,
"Liz, you're usually chatty when we're at dinner. Something on your mind?" I take a small sip of my drink and say,
"I'm just thinking about how to formulate my paper for Professor Khatib. You know me; gears are grinding in my brain constantly."
Everyone chuckles at my joke. I head back to the table, and Mom continues to speak to Hannibal. Even though he's sitting next to me, I take my phone and see if Beverly texted me. I then texted her, saying I plan on drinking, so tomorrow wouldn't be a good time to meet up. I slightly jump when I hear,
"Anything interesting?" Hannibal asks me.
I jump in my seat, looking straight at Hannibal. His honey-brown eyes pierced my soul with a double-edged sword.
"Nothing. I'm expecting an email from my professor." Hannibal, with skepticism in his eyes, smiles at me.
An Hour Later After dessert, Hannibal leaves. He never spoke to me concerning what had happened today. Dad said he was too tired to talk, so he and Mom went to bed. I placed the dishes in the dishwasher, poured more Rosè in my glass, and went to my room. I undress into my silk pajamas, brush my teeth, and slip into bed. As I set my alarm on my phone, I place my head on my pillow and think about Hannibal. Why was he so mean to me? I detest him so, but something about him draws me to him. With that said, I shut my eyes and tried to sleep it off.
