The Sin Of Desire

Will's mind was a mind of complexity. It was so rare and unique, however what no one seemed to realise was how fragile it was or how breakable it could be. Though, this was an advantage for Dr. Hannibal Lecter. A breakable mind is useful, it can be moulded into all sorts of shapes. The one shape that this doctor was interested in was one of evil, he wanted Will's mind to be one of a killer. Hannibal craved this mind, almost wanted to hold it tightly in his hands as he would if he were frying a human brain for one of his well-known meals. But Will Graham was not for eating, for he was extremely special to Hannibal. Hannibal felt a strange feeling when he was near Will; he didn't know what this feeling was, for he had never felt it before. It was almost a longing...

Hannibal Lecter hated the feeling of the unknown, unaware of what is going on. He had to be in control, dominating everything around him. Especially his own personal feelings, which Hannibal had a trifle of.

Today was the day that Hannibal had decided to sort out these 'feelings' and make sure he knew exactly what they were.

He cleaned up his already pristine office, preparing it for Will's appointment the next day. Hannibal sighed once and takes a seat behind his desk and took out his tan leather journal, opening it up to the last page he had written in. Of course, this was not an ordinary journal - where one would write down his feelings like the diary of a woman. It was a book filled with notes on Will, his... progression through the months of meetings he has had with Hannibal, but in actual fact, it was the progression Hannibal was having in changing Will's mind for his own personal use.

Jack Crawford, from the FBI, had hired Hannibal to keep Will sane - to keep his mind humane in the work he does.

Will's job of thinking in the mind of a killer could affect his sanity, so Crawford made sure to get the best psychiatrist, or so he thought, for Will. Dr. Lecter.

Hannibal looked down at his notes, looking at the artful work he had made.

Just as he scanned these notes, there was a timid knock at the door.

Hannibal smiled to himself, a sly smile, as he placed his notes back in the drawer. He locked it before rising from the desk and walking to the door slowly, his footsteps making pronounced echoes through the large room.

Hannibal wrapped his long, thin fingers around the cold door handle and opened the door to find Will standing in the doorway. His hand was holding onto the wall outside, as if he needed it for some form of physical support.

He looked as if he hadn't slept in months, which was probably the case - Will was an insomniac. When he did sleep, his nightmares snapped him straight back up.

"William," Hannibal spoke, his voice low, a hint of concern in his tone.

Will just nodded, breathing heavily.

"How are you feeling? You look..." Hannibal trailed off in a line of thought, his eyes looking down Will's fragile figure, to his feet, then back up to his deep blue irises.

"I know," Will replied, his voice deep and hoarse, probably due to the lack of sleep.

"Please. Come in," Hannibal stepped aside, motioning his hand in a welcoming way, to his office.

Will took a step inside the doorway and sighed intensely, walking to the familiarity of Hannibal's office.

Hannibal follows, tilting his head in curiosity. He hated every moment that he had to endure without looking into the eyes of Will, without staring deep into his soul to find all the answers he seeked.

He quickly walked around his desk to stand infront of Will, to look in his eyes. "May I ask what has happened to cause you to be looking as though you have been physically traumatized?" Hannibal asked, trying to make his tone light but found it pretty difficult to do so.