You were stronger than he gave you credit for.

You had met Hanzo during his travels. You had crossed paths with him during his travels, and beneath the stoic veneer, you glimpsed the weariness that clung to him like a shadow. His eyes, deep and weary, avoided your gaze when you probed into his past. Each question, innocent as it might seem, seemed to stir painful memories he wished to escape. Those questions– where are you from? What's your family like?– haunted him, reminding him of a past he was trying to seek redemption from.

His touch was so gentle, his fingers caressing you like he thought you were going to break if he pressed too hard. His whole body would shake if you held him tight enough. But he couldn't stay, he couldn't be here with you. You were too good for him, someone he couldn't have even if he wanted to. There was no trying. There was nothing more to this than a useless love. He was broken, a shell of a man. The mirror showed him a murderer and his brother's ghost. And he was angry– at himself and at the world. You didn't deserve somebody like this.

"You must stop pursuing this. All you will do is hurt yourself." Maybe he cared more than you thought, weakly holding onto your shoulders as you attempt to get close to him again. His voice was rough with emotion as he tried to push you away. His brows knitted together in concern, the depth of his care evident even through his resistance. "I bring nothing but pain."

But if his hands needed to break more than the things in his room, he could lean on you while he broke your heart.