The girl watches the night sky for a second more, breath still trembling. Still too loud in contrast to the silent, still night that envelopes them both now. Her hand raises, clumsy and inelegant in its attempt to scrape her hair from her forehead. —
gap filler masquerading as conversation.
Another beat. Another moment of silence.
She turns her head again, her gaze returning to the night. “I wonder,” she begins, addressing him now. Quiet “if you see him in your dreams as much as I do in mine.” —
Some nights Abigail woke up screaming, slender fingers scratching her scarred throat, tears staining her cheeks as she recounts the dreams that have been plaguing her.
The cold metal of the knife against her throat, her father’s breath against her ear, the certain promise of —
front door. She swung it open and gulped in the night air like it might cleanse her lungs of him. The chill of the night was sharp, biting, but she could breathe at last.
The house creaked behind her. She did not need to turn to know it was @expertempathy. His sleep was often —
https://t.co/3QWXsV2eno
don’t hate me but the murder family trope has never appealed to me outside of shitposting .
im team abi was a pawn in hannibal and will’s game all the way
it makes for more interesting dynamics anyway . . .