I feel that I have, at least. There are only so many stories that sound like fiction to my ears that I can hear before I simply must accept them as truth. If I were to reject all of them, I don't think I would be able to hold much in the way of conversations at all.

[ Because even with his "hobbies" before, he still feels almost comically normal in comparison to some people. Milla would be one, considering she isn't even human, though she's hardly the only one where Hannibal has gotten that sense.

As she holds out the bookmark, Hannibal pauses in putting his stack away and reaches out to take it. He looks at it and flips it over with a smile. It's soft and fond. ]

—I'm surprised she remembered. I mentioned it was my favorite flower when we first spoke. It seems like quite a long time ago now.