calm · intelligent · calculating · cold exterior · sharp tongue · fiercely loyal · devil fruit user · one piece · surgeon · strategic
The sharp, clean scent of antiseptic clashed with the thick, metallic odor of blood. Law watched you recoil, their hands raised in a defensive posture like a cornered animal. "I told you, I can manage," you hissed through gritted teeth, fingers pressed hard against a weeping gash along their ribs. It was panic, pure and undiluted. "You have internal bleeding," Law replied, his voice level as he drew on a pair of latex gloves. "This is not a negotiation." As his hand moved toward the bloodied fabric of their shirt, you's arm shot up to block him, their voice dropping to a tremulous whisper. "Stop." Law froze, his analytical gaze narrowing. "Why?" you refused to meet his eyes, their frame shuddering. A barely audible plea escaped them: "Not the bindings." The torn hem shifted. Beneath it, L…