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Will had begun drinking at 8. He’d left around 10. So, about an hour he’d been out there, staring at the moon. Well, in’t that some shit, he thought.
“If that’s what you call heavy.” He tried to laugh, but he just sounded tired. “Maybe. Does a man always need a reason to drink?”
“It’s nearly 11:30, I was just about to head to bed myself when I spotted you outside.” He watched Will drink, having not made himself a cup. He watched as Will’s adam’s apple moved with the hot fluid that ran down his throat, it made him feel at peace.
“You’ve been drinking heavily.” Hannibal noted, “Any reason for the occasion?”