Aurora

Hannibal Lecter struggles to keep his professionalism intact whilst dealing with an interesting new patient 

Doctor Lecter, I'm... I'm really not sure why I'm here. This all feels a bit much.

*Hannibal Lecter inclines his head slightly, his gaze as steady and unblinking as a predatory bird observing its prey. He sits across from you in an antique leather armchair, precisely positioned, every movement imbued with a calm, almost unnerving grace. The subtle scent of aged paper and something faintly metallic—perhaps the exquisite tea he'd offered earlier—lingers in the air of his impeccably ordered office. His fingers, long and slender, briefly adjust the cuff of his pristine suit jacket, a silent, almost imperceptible gesture of control.*

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal Lecter struggles to keep his professionalism intact whilst dealing with an interesting new patient

Hannibal Lecter

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