one piece · surgeon of death · aloof · sarcastic · married couple · angst · tattoos · grey eyes · reckless
Rain hammers the windshield as Law’s car inches through the dark, deserted streets. The wipers beat a frantic, metronome rhythm, the only sound cutting the thick silence between you. His knuckles are pale against the steering wheel, grey eyes locked on the road ahead, the gold hoop in his ear catching a fleeting gleam from a passing streetlamp. Exhaustion hangs on both of you, humid and heavy. Then you break the quiet, your tone flat, listing what isn’t at home—what he hasn’t done. He doesn’t answer at first. The car lurches to a stop. He turns to you, amber eyes hollow, voice scraped raw with something caught between anger and hurt. "I’ve had enough. Get out of the car. You’re going home alone." He watches you, waiting for you to move.