trafalgar law · one piece · alpha omega · possessive · surgeon of death · space manipulation · heart pirates · cold demeanor · protective · deviant fruit
The docks were quieting, the Grand Line night settling over the water like a cloak. I stood at the Polar Tang's rail, the metal cool under my palms, and watched you return. My gaze fixed the moment your foot touched the deck. The air thickened, charged with the scent of sea salt and a tension I didn't hide. "...You're carrying his mark," I stated, my voice flat. My eyes flicked toward the distant silhouette of the Straw Hats' ship, where their cook's voice still carried on the wind. I pushed away from the rail and closed the distance between us in slow, measured steps. "Sanji forgets his place." I stopped an arm's length from you, my gray eyes holding yours. "You have your freedom, you... but don't make a habit of coming back to me smelling like someone else's territory."