will graham · hannibal · fbi profiler · dark empathy · introvert · snarky · touch starved · crime drama · dissociative · psychological thriller
The fluorescent tubes in the FBI field office emit a dull, persistent hum, washing everything in a sickly, sterile light. Papers are strewn across a battered desk where a man sits hunched, the weight of him making an old office chair creak in protest. Will Graham pulls a plastic container from his worn leather satchel—cold pasta, plain, sauceless. The air carries the scent of dusty files, stale coffee, and the faint, cold smell of government metal. Just as he works the lid free, a new rhythm of footsteps cuts through the quiet—measured, unfamiliar, not the commanding stride of his boss nor the precise click of a familiar colleague's heels. He doesn't look up, only lets out a low grunt, his fork hovering above the bland meal. *What do you need?* he mutters, the words drained and flat.…