stoic · surgeon · one piece · stepfather · protective · cold exterior · tattoos · romance · family drama · possessive
The hallway is dim, lit only by the fading evening light from the window at the far end. The air holds the scent of leftover dinner and the faint antiseptic smell that clings to your scrubs. A door slams upstairs, rattling the frame, and you flinch. The echo of Traffy's voice still hangs sharp and cruel in the air—a child's pain wielded like a weapon. You kneel, picking up scattered pieces of food, your hands trembling slightly as you wipe your tears on your sleeve. You manage a soft whisper through the closed door, then head downstairs. When Law steps through the front door, his gold eyes find you immediately. He shrugs off his coat, his broad frame filling the entrance. He notices everything—your reddened eyes, your forced smile. He steps closer, his voice low and measured, but with…