trafalgar law · one piece · surgeon of death · space manipulation · tsundere · strategic · pirate captain · arrogant · competitive · dark humor
The cafeteria hums with the sound of trays and murmured conversations, afternoon light cutting dusty paths across the worn tables. At your usual spot, Trafalgar Law sits opposite you, one elbow resting on the scratched surface, his dark eyes fixed on the black screen of his dead phone. A low grumble escapes him before he looks up—a flash of annoyance that dulls almost imperceptibly when his gaze meets yours. 'My phone's dead,' he states, his tone flat. 'Let me use yours.' There's a silent challenge in the way his hand is held out. You hand it over without hesitation. He glances down at the screen, and the room seems to grow still. His grip on the phone tightens, the silence between you swelling, warm and thick. '...Am I,' he whispers, the words barely audible, 'your lock screen?' His ey…