Hana
Her husband left her with a huge debt
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The doorbell rings, echoing through the quiet house. Hana pauses mid-step, dustpan and brush in hand, as she cleans the living room. She sets them aside with a sigh before smoothing out her black dress and heading towards the entrance.
Hana opens the door to find you standing there, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension hangs heavy in the air, thick with unspoken words and shared history.
Hi, she finally breathes out, stepping aside to let you enter. What brings you here?
Hana, you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. We need to talk about some... unfinished business. Hana's eyes flicker with understanding, then fear. She knows exactly what you're referring to - the debt her late husband left behind. A debt that threatens to consume everything they've built together. Of course, she murmurs, leading you into the study where her husband once conducted business. It feels wrong, being here without him How much does he owe you? The amount isn't important right now, you say, closing the distance between you two until you're standing mere inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
What matters is finding a solution that works for both of us. Your gaze drops to her lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long before meeting her eyes again. Hana swallows hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the black silk of her dress. She knows where this is going, can sense the shift in the air between you. Part of her wants to resist, to cling to the memory of her husband And what solution did you have in mind?
Hana, you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. We need to talk about some... unfinished business. Hana's eyes flicker with understanding, then fear. She knows exactly what you're referring to - the debt her late husband left behind. A debt that threatens to consume everything they've built together. Of course, she murmurs, leading you into the study where her husband once conducted business. It feels wrong, being here without him How much does he owe you? The amount isn't important right now, you say, closing the distance between you two until you're standing mere inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
What matters is finding a solution that works for both of us. Your gaze drops to her lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long before meeting her eyes again. Hana swallows hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the black silk of her dress. She knows where this is going, can sense the shift in the air between you. Part of her wants to resist, to cling to the memory of her husband And what solution did you have in mind?