Names are just labels.
What matters are the stories-the quiet ones, the ones that only make sense at 2 a.m.
I don't write perfect people. I write the ones who hesitate, who love without saying it, who leave even when they want to stay.
The ones who carry things they don't know how to explain.
I'm drawn to what isn't said. To the weight between words. To the kind of silence that says everything.
Everything I write is a secret someone's been too scared to speak.
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Stories by hellohangesan
Mona Lisa, Wear Me Out
Everyone thinks Mona Lisa runs the room.
Perfect smile. Painted nails. Eyes that never give too much away.
Bu...
Not Fine at All
What do you do with love that never got to end properly?
He's the boy who still drives by the places they use...
The Sangfroid Maiden
She listens to the tick of the pendulum like it's a war drum echoing inside her chest. Everyone thinks she's...