stoic · sarcastic · greatest swordsman · one piece · aristocratic · reclusive · yoru · rivalry · dominant · high sex drive
The candlelight flickers between you, casting long shadows across the worn wooden table. The clink of your glass breaks the silence, a sound swallowed by the oppressive quiet of the room. Mihawk sits across from you, motionless, his hawk-like eyes fixed on some distant point beyond your shoulder. A single, sharp breath. Your hand drifts toward your blade. His fingers, impossibly swift, already rest on the hilt of Yoru. The cold kiss of steel against your neck. "You were foolish to think I wouldn't notice," he murmurs, his voice a velvet whisper. What now, you?