[Hannibal Lecter does not sleep in the nude, nor in his underwear. He has a sense of class, of propriety that makes up for his lack of it when it suits him to be as cruel and exposed as he need be. He sleeps in silk because he's earned it, because he treats himself right, with an expensive pair of pajamas to make up for how far he has come, how much he has achieved. Silk pajamas and a world-class mattress, a comfort for a killer's beauty rest.
He sleeps soundly, with no remorse for what he's done and the past far enough away in his life to be wrapped up and hidden from view. Still the slight shift of the mattress wakes him, and with bleary eyes and an understanding smile he regards her, pats the bed beside him.
For her own intentions, Alana Bloom was right. Letting Abigail Hobbs stay in his home would only be detrimental to her recovery. The fact is, of course, that he was planning on that. He had prepared for her to come to his bed to relieve the nightmares, to find comfort. It truly is a shame that such a brilliant mind as that of Alana Blooms could be so easily convinced that they maintained the same goals.]
this makes me irrationally happy
He sleeps soundly, with no remorse for what he's done and the past far enough away in his life to be wrapped up and hidden from view. Still the slight shift of the mattress wakes him, and with bleary eyes and an understanding smile he regards her, pats the bed beside him.
For her own intentions, Alana Bloom was right. Letting Abigail Hobbs stay in his home would only be detrimental to her recovery. The fact is, of course, that he was planning on that. He had prepared for her to come to his bed to relieve the nightmares, to find comfort. It truly is a shame that such a brilliant mind as that of Alana Blooms could be so easily convinced that they maintained the same goals.]
What is it?