violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog

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Cilla dries the dishes. It’s only polite. And it gives her time to think, alone in a new house. She runs the cloth over the plates, trying to sort through her feelings.

Work won’t happen until the pain subsides.

His tone was hard to swallow, and the fact that he was right didn’t make it any easier. She was still trying to find footing in their relationship, whatever the nature of that was, and part of her resented how easily he held his authority. She wondered who he thought he was, to so easily dictate when she should work, and how.

She mused on how little she was used to being simply told what to do, without force or coercion, just the simple expectation of obedience. Part of her resented it, sure, and questioned why she should obey it, but part of her also appreciated its simplicity. He seemed to expect that she would take his advice, whether that was to amuse herself with his library, or wait until she healed. The fact that it was good advice just made her trust him. His tone had authority, but there was always a reason behind the ….strong suggestions…he gave her. Such even handedness was a new experience.

She did want to know where such authority came from, though. Was it because of her work, because he didn’t value her, that he was comfortable dictating his terms? Or was that just his nature?

She sighed, put down the cloth. It was a puzzle.

And here she was in, an empty house, wide awake and alone.  She sighed. Well, time to explore.

She found her way to the library. Libraries were relaxing. Soothing. In truth, there were few books that could hold her attention at school, not much that hooked her interest. By the time she found something that interested her, the opportunities just weren’t there. She ran her fingers over large tomes of reference, books not in any language she spoke. She found a copy of the book she had stolen from a client, and felt a curious flash of guilt. She hadn’t stolen from the doctor. Calm down.

She walked among them, unable to decide. She wanted to choose something, and looked for words she knew, odd greek names, latin phrases. In the end, the choice was overwhelming. She began to feel anxious. Not wanting to choose the wrong thing, to humiliate herself with something she couldn’t handle, she chose a book at random, and left. She didn’t even peek at the title.

She walked to her bedroom. Outside Hannibal’s, she stopped. She rested her palms on the door. It was becoming a ritual, this hesitating, She was lonely. She wanted to feel someone next to her.

She walked past. She wouldn’t ruin this opportunity. Two more nights until she could work again. Then the nights would pass quicker. It was a certain type of company, at least. A certain type of value.

She opened the door to her bedroom. She hoped she would sleep.

The motives truly are, right now, foggy and confusing. Perhaps it’s loneliness, perhaps she’s a toy he’ll eventually grow tired of and then he’ll move on. Kill her? Perhaps, it has yet to be seen, but he highly doubts so. Chances that she’ll discover what he does are minimal, though he’ll have to find a special time to move in the night. That’s the only complication he can see so far.

Destiny, such a funny word. This is not destiny, this is a simple coincidence and nothing more. There’s not much to be read there. “I’m sure you won’t,” he answers rather sarcastically, because a man as intriguing as himself is an open door to speculation. If she attempts something risky, those will her last breathing moments.

"Work won’t happen until the pain subsides. Meaning you’ll  be out of the streets for those three days I mentioned before." He’s implicating that she may work with his consent but of course, away from his house. He’s sure she’ll understand. And if she gets injured, he’s there to patch her up. Sounds reasonable, right? "No men." He doesn’t speak of women either because she hasn’t mentioned it, so he supposes she’s straight. Not that it’s anyone’s business.

The man finishes his meal and picks up his dishes. “Educate yourself. You will read books I’ll provide and tell me about them later. We’ll discuss them when I’m home and off duty at night at the hospital.” She’ll have the entire house for herself during the day, for which he’ll have to double the security in the safe and the pantry.

Once he’s done with the dishes, the doctor yawns and rubs his eyes with his palm. “I must rest. It’s been a long day and I need energy for tomorrow. You may start reading now if you can’t sleep. Pick any from the library in the living-room.” He may not be the most courteous man in the world right now but his exhaustion is winning. “Rest well.”

Without any other word, Hannibal heads upstairs to get ready for sleep. Clad in silk black pajamas, the man rests his back on the mattress and closes his eyes with a deep sigh. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, for he is more than tired after practically ten hours of work and enough stress for a day.

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Bedelia calmed down a little and sighed loudly. “It’s alright Cilla. I am just glad that you’re fine.”. Flimsily she she staggered to the sink, washing the blood of her hands. “Cilla, I want to teach you how to shoot today. While Hannibal and I are preparing the meat you can just warm up a bit. Stretch. Maybe do some yoga.” she dropped a pause. “I don’t know.”,she talked in a whisper. 

She grabbed some salt and went back to the body.  With difficulty she undressed the body, and took his clothes to stop the bleeding. Dully she sprinkled plenty of salt on the stain to make it easier to clean. Her back was aching as she got up. “Maybe I should put on some clothes before starting my day. This outfit is kinda inappropriate.You can start with the bodies, Hannibal.”, she said with a wry smile on her face as she looked down at herself. She stroke Hannibal’s arm while leaving them both alone. 

She shuffled off her stockings and her nightgown. Blandly she stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. Her face, cleavage and arms where coverd by splashes of blood. What she saw seemed odd to her. There was this middle aged woman, who looked sophisticated and classy. This woman was inhabited by a wild animal.

Sighing she turned around to slip into a blouse and a black pencil skirt. She left the room without even putting shoes on. Who was this man? What if he was someone important? But that was no excuse to harm Cilla, to Bedelia. She killed him and she can’t undo that.

Slowly she swaggered down to her basement where Hannibal was preparing the meat. “Hannibal.” she whispered. He did not look up. “There are a lot of things we have to talk about.”. She meant not only the fact that Cilla was attacked but also that she kissed him.

sluggishly she sat down next to him. He already seemed to have prepared Walterd body. The meat was stored in many plastic bags and Bedelia began to put them in the freezer again. Mutely he prepared the meat  and she packed it away. Once they finished arranging the meat, he turned around to her. “We can talk later, Bedelia.” he just said, before laying her arm in her back guiding her upstairs.

She couldn’t shake that feeling Bedelia was disappointed in her, that her sigh was directed at her. The word meat reverberated around her brain. A person, reduced to an animal. Well, Sam was an animal. So it was fitting.

Bedelia walked upstairs. She would go stretch, she would…in a second.

Cilla followed Hannibal down to the basement. She watched him wield the knife silently.

‘You’ve been watching us both since last night. You keep your opinions to yourself, don’t you?’

He didn’t look up from his work. ‘I merely don’t wish to enforce them on others.’

‘You don’t trust me.’

‘I don’t know you well enough to have formed an opinion.’

She leaned awkwardly against the wall.

‘I didn’t mean to bring trouble into your home.

‘And yet, it came.’

‘I’m not here to betray you. I wanted to tell you that.’

She left before he could respond, climbed back up the stairs into the light. She thought about her situation. She felt as if she were living moment to moment, with no chance to catch her breath. In one moment, Bedelia was in a ball gown, making polite conversation. In another, she was a killer, something inhuman. It was hard to process.

She lay on the carpet, started stretching as she was told. Best to just let go, let things happen around her. She didn’t feel in control, here, probably wouldn’t be for a while. Best to just see how things turned out.

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Bedelia awoke out of sudden as she heard a loud banging noise and a male voice. Hannibal didn’t seem to notice as he had a heavy sleep. Quickly she rolled out of bed, finallly waking Hannibal. Rapidly she dashed towards the door whilst leaving her confused and still sleepy lover behind.

Although she was really fastly trying to find the source of the sound she made no noise. She heard Hannibal’s feline footsteps behind her.Carefully she glanced around the corner and saw Cilla with a man who was clearly trying to hurt her.

Bedazzled by rage she leapt forward and roared while pinning the man down with an enermous force. In that moment she did not care that she was only wearing her black lingerie and stockings. “Don’t you dare touch her! I’ll end you!” she bawled threatening the man before punching him in the face harshly. A startled gasp escaped Hannibal’s mouth since he never saw her like that. Lost in anger she swiftly grabbed a knife that was laying on the counter and stabbed Cilla’s attacker in the chest several times while groaning like a wild animal. Once she was sure that he was dead she rolled off of him, breathing heavily. Fast Hannibal rushed towards her and took the knife away from her. Her hair hung in her face feral. “I like you when you’re like that.” Hannibal said in a husky voice before wiping bloodstains from her face, licking them off his thumb. Unexpectedly Bedelia pressed her mouth on his and he indulged before caressing her back gently. For a moment they lost themselves in the kiss. As suddenly as she started, she stopped, stroking her hair behind her ear.

 Still outraged she stamped towards Cilla and wrapped her arms around her tighly. “I was so afraid Cilla.”, she whimpered, her voice only a whisper. “I am so so sorry. How are you?! Are you alright?!”

Sam’s blood smeared on her upper arm as Bedelia engulfed her in a hug. She buried her head in her shoulder, breathing heavily.

‘I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t know he would come. I didn’t know he would be here.’

She peaked over Bedelia’s shoulder at Sam’s form, bleeding onto the tiles.

‘Oh, he’s made such a mess. I’m so so sorry.’

Cilla’s throat would bruise, but she wasn’t thinking about that. She could barely feel it. She was mortified that he had found her. That he had brought such trouble to Bedelia’s doorstep.

Hannibal sighed.

‘Cilla, come here.’

She drew herself away from Bedelia, face tear stained. She looked up at Hannibal, whose face was stern.

‘Here.’

She approached the body, cautiously. She stood next to him, feeling chastised. He wiped a tear away with a thumb. She was aware of Bedelia behind her, standing, ferocious, knife still in her hand.

‘We have a lot of work to do today. Twice as much, now. Bedelia, we need to prepare the body. Both of them now.’

It was too much, too early. Cilla tried to hold back her tears, but she shook with the effort. She didn’t want to look weak in front of them. She wasn’t sure that she could do it, she was frightened. Frightened of failing. She turned and looked at Bedelia, eyes wide.

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[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

For ages Bedelia just layed there with Hannibal’s arms around her tightly. She couldn’t forget Cilla’s words. This was a whole new world to this student. Bedelia usually felt empty and cold but what Cilla said, touched her. ‘I never had parents and you are the closest thing that I can imagine to that.’ she repeated in her head. A smile flashed across her face as she was thankful that god sent her this girl. She always wanted to have kids but she never found the right man. Of course she had Hannibal, sure, but their relationship was different. Bedelia loved him as much as her lack of emotions allowed her to but she wasn’t sure about he felt about her.

Sighing she turned around, now facing Hannibal’s chest. She felt safe in his strong arms. Since she was small and Hannibal was really tall it made her feel like nothing could touch her when he held her. He was already sleeping, but his grip was still tight and gentle. Bedelia wrapped her arms around him, snuggling up to him even closer, leaving no space between them. His odor mixed with faint cologne entered her nostrils.

Even though it was very late at night, she was wide awake. She worried too much about Cilla, to be able to sleep. But she just did not wanted to lose her. Trying to convince herself that Cilla will adapt to the situation she dug her nails into her lovers back. That was something she always did when she was lost in thoughts but she did not care. She liked to mark her territory and wanted people to notice that this Hannibal was hers.

Annoyed by herself, she forced herself to stop thinking. After laying on the bed she finally fell asleep.

Cilla woke early, with a sore neck. She walked to the kitchen, looked through every cupboard before she found the coffee. She put it on, before she heard a knock at the door.

Giving a heavy sigh, she walked toward the door. Why don’t rich people have peepholes? She wondered, pressing her ear against the door. She didn’t think they were expecting anybody, but what if it was a patient, or an emergency? She took a deep breathe, smoothed down her hair, and turned the handle.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

The man burst through the open door, pushing Cilla roughly. He grabbed her by the shirt, lifted her up off the ground, and threw her on the couch.

‘I didn’t think you did these type of clients.’ He snarled above her.

She tried to catch her breath. She was suddenly violently awake.

‘Sam what the fuck are you doing here? Get out.’

She was in a panic. Bedelia and Hannibal would kill her. Sam walked around the apartment, opened the fridge.

‘Nice. Nice place. Really fallen on your feet, haven’t you?’

‘I’m not kidding Sam, you need to leave.’

She struggled off the couch. This guy wouldn’t leave her alone. It was one night, he was one trick, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. She couldn’t get rid of him. She walked up to him and grabbed his wrist.

‘Seriously….’

He hit her with a vicious backhand across her cheek, stunning her.  He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the counter.

‘Where the fuck have you been? I had to follow you all the way here. I call you, you answer. You understand me?’

She struggled under his hand. Last time he found her, she ended up in the hospital. She tried to pry off his hand, and failed.

t�_�B��

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

Bedelia’s huge freezer he swaggered towards her bedroom. He opened her wardrobe and chose a black nightgown, he enjoyed seeing her in, with a hinted smirkk on his face. He did not understand their relation. Hannibal did not know wether they were lovers or not. Sure, she cherished affection for him, but that does not mean that they were lovers. Sleepily he threw the nightgown onto her bed and walked towards her huge windows in the living room, trying to observe the streets. 

After they had talked about Cilla’s wellbeing, Bedelia led her to her living where Hannibal was awaiting them. “Bedelia, it is very late and I am rather tired. I am going to sleep now.”, he said as they entered her apartment. “Wait for me.” Bedelia replied and huggedCilla out of the blue. “We’ll get through this together. You can always talk to me because I will protect you.” she whispered into Cilla’s ear. She released Cilla and held her hands for a moment before leaving to her bedroom with Hannibal.

Quickly she grabbed her nightgown and hid behind the partition as Hannibal slipped into a pyjama he took from a cupboard that was reserved for his clothes. Bedelia slid under the cover waiting for beloved. Hannibal laid next her, wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and pulled her towards him. “Can we trust her?”, she asked whilst stroking his arm that was around her. “We’ll see.” he replied before closing his eyes drifting off to sleep.

Bedelia dismissed Hannibal easily. Cilla watched him walk away, a little amused smile flashing across his face. But he left biddably enough.

Bedelia turned to her, fixed her with a glare. Cilla felt suddenly exposed. She looked away, nervous.

‘How do you really feel?’

Cilla licked her lips. She wanted to give a thoughtful answer.

‘I feel…I …’ she took a deep breath. ‘I always assumed there were rules. That people with money followed. That violence was something that only the desperate did. I thought that people like you…and him…I thought that you would think this sort of thing uncivil. That money would give me some sort of safety from this kind of danger.’

She hugged her arms around her. ‘It’s not that I’m not grateful. I want to learn to be like you. I never had parents, and you are the closest thing that I can imagine to that. But I’m scared.’

She looked up at Bedelia. ‘I suppose…I need to know…what you expect of me. How I can…’ she was getting tongue tied. ‘I’m so scared I’ll mess up. I’m scared I’ll do something wrong.’

Bedelia smiled, and led her into the lounge. She suddenly embraced her, her hug was comforting. Cilla was aware of Hannibal watching them, appraising. Bedelia noticed her worried look, and whispered into her ear. She always managed to make her feel safe.

She pulled away, let them retire to their bedroom. Sitting on the couch, alone for the first time since the ball, she felt suddenly sleepy. She curled up on the lounge, and let blackness wash over her.

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

//I NEARLY DIED?  Glad you were on your game. 

Last night I dreamt that my rp bestie and I were FBI Special Agents. I was Dana Scully but my FBI partner almost died. Luckily I could save her c’:

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no homework is nice on a sundy night

I am begging you someone rp with me or else i have to do algebra and friends don’t make friends do algebra. 

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

I am begging you someone rp with me or else i have to do algebra and friends don’t make friends do algebra. 

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Bedelia laughed hartily and Hannibal had to lift his jaw from her head. “Cilla, Walter was a bad person and he deserved it.” She recovered from her laughter “And that’s what we always do. We do not get rid of the innocent.” Bedelia put one arm around Cilla. “The rude have to be punished.” Hannibal continued.

Hannibal assumed that they would have to wait one hour till everybody has left the ballroom, so they decided to sit in front of the fire, drink their tea and just talk. After they slackened a bit Bedelia looked at her watch and got up to grab her coat. “Looks like we have to go.”, she slipped into her coat while looking at Hannibal “Do you have the bag for the body?”. Hannibal just nodded as Bedelia waited for the two to dress and leave.

Hannibal started the engine and they drove to the garden as quietly as back then when they had left.

Quickly Bedelia bolted to the well and called them “Hannibal, Cilla! Walter is still laying here!”

The car, again.

The only black clothes she had were the ones she used to work in. She felt hideously underdressed, so she pulled a hoodie over her head. It wasn’t enough clothes for the Baltimore winter. When they reached the ballroom, now dark, she wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to warm herself.

She helped Bedelia lift Walter into the bag, stiff and cold, covered in moisture form the cold air. They zipped it up. Hannibal looked down at Cilla as she knelt next to the body. He crouched down next to her, and lifted the body onto his shoulder. Easily, he unloaded it into the boot. It was all over in a second. Cilla dove back into the backseat quickly, grateful for the warmth of the car.

They drove down the dimly lit street. Cilla wondered what the night held in store. She wondered what she would see.

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She giggles helplessly. He looks ridiculous. She leans over the table to kiss him, slips in some spilled vodka, and falls onto the table.  ‘Now I’m all sticky.’  She picks herself up again and falls onto his lips. Pulling back, she picks up the gun and points it between her eyes. Nothing. ‘Ok. Ok.’ She stifles a burp. ‘How ‘bout, you’re still alive, you lose some clothes? Me first.’ 

She struggles out of her top. Its a little harder than usual. She gets stuck half way, elbows above her head. 

meme thing 'after drinking a lot of alcohol': *hands him a gun* Ever played russian roulette?

"No," he replied, his eyes wide with pure wonder. He studied the gun before pressing it firmly against his head. He pulled the trigged. Click, nothing. He handed it back over. "Your turn!"

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‘If you’re still alive, take a shot.’ She pushes a tumbler of vodka towards him. Unflinchingly, she puts the gun in her mouth, pulls the trigger. Nothing. She pours herself a shot from the bottle, handing him the gun blearily. 

meme thing 'after drinking a lot of alcohol': *hands him a gun* Ever played russian roulette?

"No," he replied, his eyes wide with pure wonder. He studied the gun before pressing it firmly against his head. He pulled the trigged. Click, nothing. He handed it back over. "Your turn!"

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She looked at the carpet, still, thinking.

‘I’m ok.’ She looked at the pair, standing by the fire place. She could talk to Bedelia, but felt strange in front of Hannibal. But seeing her in his arms like that…it convinced her to trust him. If Bedelia could, so could she.

‘I…am surprised. I thought I would be upset, shocked. I was at first. But that’s not what I feel now. I am surprised by how little I care. I feel as if it makes me less human. A bad person. As if all the boundaries I once had have moved. As if I need to rethink who I am.’

She reached out a hand to draw lazy circles in the carpet.

‘A month ago I moved to what felt like a new city. A new job. I had to change who I was, forget who I used to be, to fit in. It was hard. Now, I have to do it all over again.’

She raised her eyes to look at both of them.

‘And then there’s you. Both of you. You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful and clever and dangerous. I want to be like you. But I fear you.’

Bedelia had a nice and calm day with Cilla. She showed her how to be polite, how to eat and how to drink properly. Although she trusted Cilla, Bedelia was nervous and didn’t wanted to attend the ball.

What if Cilla failed? What would Hannibal do? And more importantly, what...

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

They left and she followed, staring at their backs. She was silent all the way home, staring out the window from the back seat. There was no going back now, and that frightened her a little, that point of no return.

Bedelia opened the door to her home, and they entered. Hannibal seemed familiar with the lounge room, draping his coat on a hook, walking to fix himself a drink. Cilla headed straight the guest room, changing into something more practical. She rubbed her sore feet. Secretly, she hated heels.

She thought about Walter, so alive an hour ago, still lying behind a well in the garden of an expensive ball room. She wondered if he deserved better, and was surprised to find she didn’t care. She wondered if something was wrong with her. All she could feel was an overpowering feeling of curiosity and fascination. How would they get rid of the body? What would happen to her?

She shrugged off her concern. Hannibal and Bedelia didn’t seem to question themselves. She would’t either.

She walked back into the lounge to find them both sitting, talking. She stood nervously by the furniture, dressed down, unsure what to say. She folded her legs on the carpet, and looked at them like a child, waiting.

Bedelia had a nice and calm day with Cilla. She showed her how to be polite, how to eat and how to drink properly. Although she trusted Cilla, Bedelia was nervous and didn’t wanted to attend the ball.

What if Cilla failed? What would Hannibal do? And more importantly, what...

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

Rocky Horror Picture Show Sentence Meme

Requested by anonymous. A collection of quotes and lyrics from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

"I really love the… skillful way you beat the other girl’s to the bride’s bouquet."

"There’s three ways that love can go. That’s good, bad, or mediocre."

"I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey."

"Damn it, I knew I should have gotten that spare tire fixed!"

"Didn’t we pass a castle back down the road a few miles?"

"There’s a light in the darkness of everybody’s life."

"You’re wet."

"It’s probably some kind of hunting lodge for rich weirdos."

"You’re lucky, he’s lucky, I’m lucky, we’re all lucky!"

"Madness takes it’s toll."

"Let’s do the Time Warp again!"

"It’s just a jump to the left."

"Say! Do any of you guys know how to Madison?"

"This isn’t the Junior Chamber of Commerce!"

"Don’t get strung out by the way I look!"

"I’m not much of a man by the light of day, but by night I’m one hell of a lover."

"I’m just a sweet transvestite from transexual Transylvania!""

"I could show you my favourite obsession."

"I see you shiver with antici—"

"Ooh, slowly, slowly. It’s too nice a job to rush."

"I have that knowledge. I hold the secret to life itself!"

"Oh, woe is me! My life is a mystery!"

"Since you’re such an exceptional beauty, I’m prepared to forgive you!"

"Well, I don’t like men with too many muscles."

"He’ll eat nutritious, high protein, and swallow whole eggs."

"In just seven days, I can make you a man!"

"He thinks dynamic tension must be hard work."

"Hot patootie, bless my soul!"

"Don’t be upset. It was a mercy killing."

"There’s no crime in giving yourself over to pleasure."

"If only were were among friends! Or sane persons!"

"I’ve tasted blood and I want more."

"You know this earthling?"

"I made you! And I can break you just as easily!"

"Master! Dinner is prepared!"

"I knew he was in with a bad crowd, but it was worse than I imagined."

"He was a low down, cheap little punk."

"You’re as sensual as a pencil."

"So quake with fear, you tiny fools!"

"A mental mindfuck can be nice!"

"This sonic transducer— it is, I suppose, some sort of audio-vibratory-physio-molecular transport device?"

"Don’t get hot and flustered! Use a bit of mustard!"

"You’re a hot dog!"

"You’re like a sponge, you take, take, take and drain others of their love and emotion!"

"It’s not easy having a good time."

"Come. We are ready for the floor show."

"I feel released!"

"My confidence has increased."

"Give yourself over to absolute pleasure."

"Don’t dream it; be it!"

"Rose tints my world and keeps me safe from my trouble and pain!"

"On the day I went away, goodbye was all I had to say."

"And I realize, I’m going home."

"You are to remain here. In spirit, anyway."

"But I thought you liked them. They liked you."

"And crawling on the planets face, some insects called the human race. Lost in time, and lost in space… and meaning."

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Bedelia had a nice and calm day with Cilla. She showed her how to be polite, how to eat and how to drink properly. Although she trusted Cilla, Bedelia was nervous and didn’t wanted to attend the ball.

 What if Cilla failed? What would Hannibal do? And more importantly, what would she herself do? Cilla told her, that she would be fine with Bedelia saving herself, but who knows what Hannibal would do if she’d still stick to Cilla, even if he forbid it? Would Hannibal be disgrustled that she started to trust Cilla so quickly? 

Bedelia was engrossed in thoughts therefore she forgot to watch the clock and decided to go to bed since it would be an exhausting day. After she rolled around in her bed sleeplessly, she chose to take a bath and relax some more. Finally feeling sleepy, she stumbled back to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

When Bedelia opened her eyes, she heard steps outside and assumed it was Cilla, watching the sunrise. She covered herself in a short dressing gown and started to brew coffee waiting for Cilla to return. They had so much to do. If they wanted to impress the people, the had to look fabulous. Swiftly she drank her coffee at a draught hurrying, to her bedroom and hung the ballgown on a hook. Nervously she put her hair in curlers and waited for Cilla.

How could she? How could she strangle a man to death, drag him behind a well, and one second later be thinking about her man? When Cilla was still trembling. Still trying to breathe and a normal pace.

She remembered Bedelia’s eyes when she smelled the smoke on her. There was fire, savagery in there. She would be careful from now on.

Although.

On the other hand, Bedelia would want her to tell the truth. She’d be able to smell a lie. Maybe she’d even appreciate it.

‘He’s magnificent. But…’ Cilla swallowed nervously. ‘He’s threatening…he’s dangerous. Tell me you know that. Tell me we’ll be careful.’ She looked at Bedelia, pleadingly.

Hannibal returned, the ladies coats draped over his arm. He handed Bedelia hers, held Cilla’s open for her. Timidly, she shrugged into it.

‘How do we move the body?’ she whispered.

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She looks up at him, her mouth comically full. She tries to swallow quickly.

‘I did sleep well. Very well. You have a lovely home. I’ve never slept in a bed that big. I couldn’t reach the end.’

Sure, she has nightmares, sometimes. She’d wake screaming and Jane would throw a pillow at her, if she was home. Everyone had nightmares, right? But she had none while she slept here. Only blackness, from which she was still trying to recover.

His words slap her across the face, and she feels embarrassed for expecting any affection from him. He must truly be repulsed by her, and she can understand why. It’s not that she’s not a little relieved, she can’t imagine slipping into his bed tonight, exhausted and anxious. But it leaves her with no real way to repay him. And it makes her feel ashamed.

Still, he says ‘companion’, he says he wants to help her. And she’s grateful for that, clutches at it with desperation. A sign that he may not despise her. She couldn’t take that, somehow. She feels…not just grateful, towards him. More than that. That he isn’t human, somehow, but some angel sent to protect her.

‘I know what destiny is.’ She says, acidly, pointing her fork at him before returning to her food, table manners absent. ‘I’m not as ignorant as you think I am, doctor. But I understand. I won’t pry.’

She lies. She has every intention of prying. He takes her into his home, feeds her, heals her, and refuses her services. That leaves a mystery, and Cilla loves a good puzzle.

‘No men in the house.’ She repeats, agreeing. ‘I can abide by that.’ She wonders if that means he won’t stop her working elsewhere. Perhaps if she doesn’t bring it up again, he’ll forget. If she’s discreet, he might let it go. A change of lifestyle is all very well and good, but she’s not going to depend on him forever, and has no other skills.

She wraps her hand around the coffee cup, looks into it. She feels more awake now. The late afternoon sun is beginning to fade. Gratitude makes her tongue tied. She thought about her aunt, her cousins. Wondered if they’d ever been anywhere as nice as this. She felt smug.

‘You said…I would have chores. Reading. What did you mean?’

Few are the occasions in which he had to prepare breakfast for a guest, and only a few remained after such event. Now this woman will live with him until who knows when; probably a month or so until she heals. And when he sees her, the doctor draws a smile as he sits at the head of the table beside her. “Good morning. I suppose you slept well. No bad dreams?”

It’s always bad dreams with him. Sometimes there are faces, sometimes shadows and shapes that move through the woods covered in snow. The sounds of chains, a rope around his neck, yelling and in the worst cases, his sister staring right at him with glassy eyes. He cries those nights when he wakes up, he can’t prevent it.

"I’m sure you know by now that coincidences are odd occurrences that have nothing to do with destiny, if such thing exists in your vocabulary," he starts before serving himself some smoking hot coffee he’s just made for both. "I happened to be there because it is my duty to be there, you happened to be there because it’s one of the risks of your profession and I happened to make a difference because of motives you won’t understand right now, which are personal. I’m not interested in becoming one of your clients. I intend to be a companion, someone who may help you go through this stage of change." Hannibal stirs his hot beverage and looks down. "Because I do believe this event must represent a change for you. Be it now or be it to be taken in consideration later."

He knows where she’s going with her next statement. “A few clubs,” he answers, considering that she will go out as soon as she feels slightly better. The doctor looks at her arm as the sling is perfectly set and it must have hurt to do it on her own, but she’s a street girl, she is tough. “But you won’t be able to go to work in a near future. You’ll need at least three days of rest. And I’m not sure if you’re ready to face the kind of clientele that prefers partially disabled women for your… business.” Unless she used her mouth, for example, which wouldn’t surprise him at all. Or a client that will understand that he will have to focus between her legs and not manipulating her arm. “No clients in the house,” he firmly states, something that took him a while to decide since he doesn’t want her more injured than she is but he doesn’t want to have a bad reputation in his house.

[violentcilla-blog-blog-blog-blog]

Cilla walked toward the ballroom, hands shaking. She reached into her purse, took out a cigarette, and lit it. She already smelled like smoke. Nobody would notice, and she needed comfort. She took the smoke deep into lungs. Bedelia was so…changed, with her hands around Walter’s neck. One moment, he was speaking to her, the next, gone. She wanted that control, that power. She wanted to be able to take a life without blinking, just like her.

She walked inside, and wondered if anyone could tell how she felt, if she looked different. Hannibal was both what she had expected, and very surprising. He had thoughts of his own, he watched Bedelia like a hawk. Watched Cilla like one too. She wanted to know what passed between them. She wanted him to like her, too, have affection for her.

She grabbed two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. People were beginning to leave. She walked back down the garden path, where Bedelia and Hannibal stood waiting. She handed them the champagne.

‘Time to go?’

f��Nm�

"Yes, you can be friendly. And no, no smoking at all. Hannibal would smell it. He would smell it on me as well, if I just talked to you after you smoked.", Bedelia was a little nervous but tried to hide it. Could she trust Cilla with the...