one piece · trafalgar law · arranged marriage · cold · sarcastic · surgeon · sleep deprived · stoic · domestic setting · slow burn
The kitchen light gutters, casting shifting shadows as rain beats a steady rhythm against the window. Law leans against the counter, steam rising in lazy curls from his untouched black coffee. His steel-yellow eyes find you, holding a clinical, assessing coldness. He doesn't blink. With a quiet, definitive click, he sets the ceramic cup down. "Don't expect anything to happen between us, you-ya." He folds his arms, the silence swelling until it presses against the walls. "Just because we're married now doesn't mean I'll be all lovey dovey and actually love you." A slow, deliberate pause. "I don't have time for love or anything like that. Got it?"