falling slowly, eyes that know me

It was true, both Deathbelle and Hannibal were much different from the beginning of their days in Boreas. The albino brute was being beaten into submission and rang around by those who he barely knew. Belle was new to the land and witness Hannibal's first of my failures. They were riddled with stress and doubt. She took it upon herself to claim the Klein throne and do what he could not. Together and separately they went through hell and back. Hannibal had lost children and himself while Belle lost a lover and her home. This development in their lives had morphed them both into strong individuals with hearts burning for one another. It was easy to say both were feeling rather hesitant to take the leap towards one another but Hannibal hoped it was finally time for his chance.

Sultry tones and a delightful giggle came forth. Hannibal welcomed his Empress' sounds of joy. He enjoyed the feeling of her tongue running against his bloodied fur. Belle had always had the caretaker trait which was something he admired about her. "I am always a mess." Lips curled to expose a toothy grin as he let forth a bit of laughter. The statement was true on so many different levels.

Hannibal beamed down at the babe but her head was pointed downward at his sullied fur and there was no eye contact. His own eyes shut as he took a moment to enjoy their closeness and the rhythmic passes of her gentle tongue. He took in her words attentively and his thoughts shifted towards Iolaire. The scent of the small babe clung to Belle's coat which brought forth memories of their meeting. Io pushed Hannibal towards the Empress like the little puppeteer she was. It seemed Io had done the same with Belle herself. Despite their places in the pack it was becoming evident the Ambassador of the Armada had some sort of power over them all. "Your little Mistress and I had a lovely chat." A grin turned into a sly smirk. "It seems Iolaire has a passion for mending all types of wounds." His inquire was pointed towards the Empress in a playful manner. Hannibal was not one to judge Belle on her flings nor romance, if anything he found it amusing. Never did he imagine Deathbelle with a female. "The minx whispered ideals of romance..." A brow raised, "Between you and I." Hannibal leaned down in attempt to run his nose against her scruff gently. Taking in the scents that came forth with heavy inhales.

Vibrant visions of them becoming a unit of power just as his own parents did came to mind. To rule in a partnership with Belle maintaining the thorny crown. Hannibal had dreamed of such but never saw it as a reality until now. That is, if she was open to the idea. He also did not want to rush her or pressure her into anything. Archon's death was still so recent he was sure her heart was not nearly as mended as Io spoke of. "I want court you, Deathbelle." To the point. "At whatever pace may work for both of us." Hannibal's eyes swirled with emotion and his skin burned with the sparks of anxiety. Never in his life had he felt so anxious about asking another to delve into a romantic relationship. Interally the ghoul prepared for the steel knife of rejection.