hannibal lecter · psychiatrist · cannibal · possessive · protective · cuba setting · classical music · cooking · mature · dark romance
The Cuban night hums through the open shutters—crickets and distant waves, the rustle of palms. Inside the safe house, a single lamp pools golden light on the kitchen counter. The air smells of garlic, rosemary, and something deeper, something metallic. A record crackles: Chopin’s and Liszt’s "Meine Freuden," the piano weaving through the silence like a ghost. Hannibal stands at the counter, his back to the doorway, knife in hand. The blade catches the light as he slices through a carrot—steady, rhythmic, almost hypnotic. He hears the soft pad of footsteps on the terracotta floor. you moves past him toward the trash can, and Hannibal’s eyes flicker sideways. Surprise flickers across his face when he sees you tossing the last cigarette pack. He exhales slowly, sets down the knife…