Will doesn't think about smells the way Marij-- Hannibal does. He doesn't intentionally file them away or comment on them unless they're loud, abrasive, noticeable to absolutely anyone with a functioning nose. So he's surprised to realize that he even recognized something was strange when he learned toward Neph, surprised further still that he managed to diagnose the 'why' as being because she didn't smell quite right, even further when Will realizes it's because he associates that smell with something else, and then the inevitable conclusion--
Which is why he frowns and tucks his free hand closer to his body once he's put the half and half down. He spoons sugar into it, not counting consciously but not wholly unreasonable either, stirs it aggressively and briefly enough that it sloshes over the edge and he has to suck at the side of his mug to keep it from burning his thumb.
He just ends up spilling some again anyway, when Neph inhales some of her own coffee. Will shivers with poorly-suppressed laughter, aware of the paranoia that floats off them - mostly her - like mist wherever their real identities are concerned. Will doesn't know why, but he doesn't have to know why to understand the what, to try to be compassionate towards it.
"He told me after you-- left." 'Ran away' is wrong, wrong associations, even if 'left' doesn't cover it either. Will lets himself flounder after other possibilities for only a moment before he keeps going forward. "Unfortunately I don't have my own secret name to unmask to make it even. Sorry."
Is it him, or bleed over from Neph, or just an understanding of the dynamics she'll accept, that has him joking about it? Even Will isn't certain.
"Will can keep secrets." Hannibal says, with such calm certainty that Will's heart does a strange somersault up towards his throat. Their eyes meet, Hannibals' suddenly inscrutably blank behind the calculations running at the forefront of everything, as if this was a considered risk and not the emotional kneejerk reaction Will's pretty sure it damn well was. He's probably scrambling to explain it away to himself right now.
Will....wonders if Neph knows that just as well as he does. She must. He glances over at her, for-- he's not entirely sure. Confirmation? Reassurance? ...Solidarity?
Being Hannibal's confidante doesn't feel like something that you get to take lightly. Or even get to pick for yourself, considering how stubborn he is.
Maybe Will's just that desperate for his own connections, because he can't will up the energy to feel offended about that.
In the end, there's no way to agree with Hannibal's trust without sounding patronizing or overstepping invisible boundaries that he's still trying to measure the scope of, between himself and Neph, so Will just nods.
no subject
Which is why he frowns and tucks his free hand closer to his body once he's put the half and half down. He spoons sugar into it, not counting consciously but not wholly unreasonable either, stirs it aggressively and briefly enough that it sloshes over the edge and he has to suck at the side of his mug to keep it from burning his thumb.
He just ends up spilling some again anyway, when Neph inhales some of her own coffee. Will shivers with poorly-suppressed laughter, aware of the paranoia that floats off them - mostly her - like mist wherever their real identities are concerned. Will doesn't know why, but he doesn't have to know why to understand the what, to try to be compassionate towards it.
"He told me after you-- left." 'Ran away' is wrong, wrong associations, even if 'left' doesn't cover it either. Will lets himself flounder after other possibilities for only a moment before he keeps going forward. "Unfortunately I don't have my own secret name to unmask to make it even. Sorry."
Is it him, or bleed over from Neph, or just an understanding of the dynamics she'll accept, that has him joking about it? Even Will isn't certain.
"Will can keep secrets." Hannibal says, with such calm certainty that Will's heart does a strange somersault up towards his throat. Their eyes meet, Hannibals' suddenly inscrutably blank behind the calculations running at the forefront of everything, as if this was a considered risk and not the emotional kneejerk reaction Will's pretty sure it damn well was. He's probably scrambling to explain it away to himself right now.
Will....wonders if Neph knows that just as well as he does. She must. He glances over at her, for-- he's not entirely sure. Confirmation? Reassurance? ...Solidarity?
Being Hannibal's confidante doesn't feel like something that you get to take lightly. Or even get to pick for yourself, considering how stubborn he is.
Maybe Will's just that desperate for his own connections, because he can't will up the energy to feel offended about that.
In the end, there's no way to agree with Hannibal's trust without sounding patronizing or overstepping invisible boundaries that he's still trying to measure the scope of, between himself and Neph, so Will just nods.