(not a bot) my gay ass writing

hannibal's lips part nearly hesitantly, a curious tone embodying his words when he speaks. "we killed a dragon, and were born anew in the sea." will's eyebrows knit together, a pensive expression. "a miracle we didn't turn into seafoam," he muses, offers. "some believe we come from it. come from the sea, return to it." hannibal replies, brown eyes meeting blue. "what we did was sacrificial," will whispers, pursing his lips and breaking eye contact to stare at his hands, "when we fell off that cliff, it- it felt...symbiotic." he runs a nervous hand through his hair. "i feel as though...you and i have begun to blur."

"isn't that how you found me?" "every crime of yours...feels like one i am guilty of. not just abigail's murder, every murder...stretching backward and forward in time." "freeing yourself from me, and...me freeing myself from you. they're the same." "we're conjoined. i'm curious whether either of us can survive seperation."

"i don't think so." will murmurs with a sad smile in his voice, pressing a kiss to hannibal's knuckles.

will pauses for a moment, pondering, "i mentioned...in one of our sessions that i would kill you with my hands." hannibal looks over at him, curious. "yes," a pause from hannibal, "would you have done it quickly, or would you have stopped to gloat?" he offers.

"does god gloat?" will asks in turn, and hannibal shifts subconsciously, a thumb stroking will's cheekbone.

"often. tell me, will; do you see yourself as a god?" will pauses, pursing his lips and exhaling thoughtfully.

he meets his gaze with intent. "for you, i could be. are you a religious man, hannibal?"

"for you, i could be." hannibal repeats. "for you, i would create galaxies."