[ Hana watches each and every one of Widowmaker's movements, knuckles turning white from her grip on her gun. They had just dispatched three criminals— and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't the real problem. She can feel her heart racing and her blood rushing at her cool detachment and Hana would like, very much, to punch that completely condescending attitude in the face. ]
You don't know anything about me. So stop talking to me like you do.
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You don't know anything about me. So stop talking to me like you do.