The young woman's bare feet spun her lazily across the buttery-polished wood floor to music that only she could hear. Her eyes were closed and although there was a scattering of furniture approaching her path, she did not collide with anything. Sunlight fell down upon her from the windows that stretched ten feet above her to the high ceiling.
From one of the shadowed corners there came a deep, solemn voice that had the timbre of some demon come up from the depths. "Clarice." She did not open her eyes, but she knew that his pale grey eyes glittered like a hawk watching a mouse. "Clarice," his voice was firmer.
Clarice stopped spinning away and faced him. Her body continued to move to the gentle music, though. "Can't you hear it, Doctor?"
The doctor rested his chin upon the knuckles of his right hand, not once did his eyes blink. "Yes, Clarice, I do hear it." He smiled then and had anyone else seen they would have seen the mark of a feral beast, not the pleasant smile of a doctor indulging his patient.
Clarice opened her eyes. She did not flinch from the stare and her own smile was brave in the face of the doctor's. "I know the translation... it's crude. Would you recite my favorite part?" Clarice asked politely.
Slowly the doctor rose from the leather chair. He stood, carefully observing Clarice, but did not step from the shadows. Not yet. He began, "Ego dominus tuus..." The doctor's voice touched Clarice like the finest silk; the words sent a shiver of pleasure through her nerves. "Vide cor tuum... E d'esto core ardendo... Cor tuum... Umilmente pascea."
Clarice's eyes closed as she raised her face toward the sunlight. The doctor stepped away from the shadow and stretched his hand toward her cheek. He finished the last line, "Appreso gir lo ne vedea piangendo."
Her hand caught his, lightly, just before he could brush the soft skin of her cheek. Clarice brought the finely manicured fingers to her lips and brushed them to the warmth that was there. This time the doctor felt his nerves become infused with flame. Gripping Clarice's hand, he drew her swiftly close into his aura. Her eyes flew open and met his; devil and angel they were caught for a frozen moment in time.
"You'll never leave me, will you, Doctor Lecter?" There was no desperation in her voice; she was confirming a fact.
"No, Clarice, you'll always be a part of me..."
Anyone who has read the book, Hannibal, will understand where this came from and what happens after Lecter has the last word in my shorty.
Vide Cor Meum from Dante's LaVita Nuova