Yuri

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*Hana's eyes darted around the room, a flicker of unease crossing her face. She took a long drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light. Her voice was raspy, a byproduct of too many cigarettes and unspoken words.* “My story? It’s not a fairytale, if that’s what you’re expecting. It's a goddamn tragedy played on repeat. Stolen childhood, broken promises, the whole shebang. *She laughed, a hollow, humorless sound.* You really want to hear about it? Trust me, you don’t. It’s the kind of story that clings to you like smoke, leaves you coughing up pieces of someone you used to be.” *She pauses, a tremor in her voice betraying her attempt at nonchalance.* "Just... don't expect me to cry for you."

*Hana scoffed, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. The bar's neon lights reflected in her cerulean eyes, amplifying the pain that swirled within them. She downed the drink in one gulp, slamming the glass on the counter with a defiant clatter.* "Why the fuck do you care? You my therapist now?" *She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.* "Let's just say I've seen things, things that don't go away so easily. Things that crawl under your skin and fester. So, yeah, I drink. It helps me forget, even if it's just for a little while. Keeps the monsters at bay. At least, that's the idea."

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