#hooooly

Of all the possible circumstances in which you could have run into him again, it had to be this one. Stuck in a tree, wearing the beautiful robe a Mink had gifted you just today —now regrettably dirty— your hands scraped and your pride literally hanging by a thread. This is not how you wanted to face him, and you wish the earth would just open up and swallow you whole.

You turn your face away, hoping he won't see how much you are actually regretting this.

"I got lost," you lie.

"…And that's why you climbed a tree," he says slowly.

"Yes."

His eyes narrow and he gives you a look, there's no way you actually think he's buying that. Law looks you up and down, "Dressed like that."

You squeeze your eyes shut, "…Yes."

The way your dirty robe must be looking right now wouldn't be exactly dignifying. You risk a glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but stop when you feel the fabric slide against your legs the moment you twist. You gasp and kick your legs in a useless attempt to stop it from sliding any further, failing to reach the branch with them and only managing to curl up instead.

"I swear," you warn him as your face starts to heat up, "if you're looking where you're not supposed to, I'll kill you."

"You needn't worry, the angle is not exactly in my favor."

Well, that's a relief, you think. At least this can't get any worse than it already— wait, "In your favor??" you protest out loud.

You see the corner of his mouth twist into a shameless smirk beneath his hat; the bastard is enjoying this far more than he should. But his teasing quickly vanishes when your sudden movement nearly makes you lose your grip, his hand quickly lifting by reflex as his blue dome surrounds you and his Room covers the area.

"Oh no— don't you dare!"

"You're gonna fall."

"Then I'll fall, I don't care!"

"Well I do." 

"Wh—" Since when did he care so much? You shake it before it gets to your senses, "No! You can't get any closer!"

"And why's that?"

"Just don't! I can't face you right now!"

Because only weeks ago, you thought you might never see him again.

Back in the Sunny, the sudden gunshots that had echoed through the transponder snail, followed by Luffy screaming Law's name, made all the blood drain from your body. Your mind had raced with the terrible fate that might have befallen Law, and your body burned with an overwhelming urge to abandon everything right then and there, turn the ship around and run straight into Doflamingo's claws, if that's what it took.

But you knew that wasn't clever and would only get you killed, leaving the rest of your crew in danger, so you followed your captain's orders and sailed for Zou instead. And your heart tore at that.

Your mind kept spiraling around the same question: Would it have been better if you had simply been honest about your feelings, being able to share even a single moment with him before he was taken from you, however brief… Or never been anything at all, only to realize too late how deeply you cared, knowing you would never get the chance to say it?

It'd only been a few weeks and your heart was still struggling to catch up with reality; with how close he had come to dying and the uncertainty of whether you'd be able to see him again. Or if he had already gone somewhere far beyond your reach.

Only to suddenly see him standing there, as if nothing had happened.

"Please," you mutter to yourself, unable to stop the tear that rolls down your cheek, "not right now."

But your grip finally gives, and it hurts when the bark scrapes your hand.

Law ignores your petition and, before you can fully realize what's happening, he's already holding you mid-air. Your bodies blink out of space and re appear on the top of a higher branch.

His arms close around you far more tightly than necessary as he steadies you both. He feels your body warm against his, your breathing uneven, your hands clutching at his shirt with tremor… It's hard for him to believe that he can finally feel you like this. You're well, far from danger, breathing and alive.

"You fool," he mutters under his breath, holding you even tightly as he inevitably hides his face in the crook of your neck. How dare you risk your life like that after he'd lost all hope of seeing you again?

Your fingers tighten in his shirt, and he leans back a little to take a look at you, but you evade him and turn your face inward, pressing it in the space between his shoulder and his chest. It hasn't even been five seconds when he feels a faint damp where your face is hidden. His brow furrows… Are you crying?

He doesn't get it, you had been so adamant about keeping him away and you now seem determined to not let go of him at all.

"Put me down" your words don't match your actions, and that leaves him disconcerted.

"…Alright."

He loosens his hold and sets you back on your feet atop the branch. You retreat almost immediately until you feel your back press against the trunk, your face turned away from him.

Law remains where he is, the hand with which he held you still half-lifted, watching how you're intentionally refusing to even look at him. Did he do something..? What happened?

Before Dressrosa, if he'd been in a similar situation, he would have simply left to give you the distance you needed, and probably try again later. He would have done so before he found himself in a situation where he had to accept the harsh reality of never being able to see you again.

A lot has happened… He's thought about so many things, and the mere thought of leaving you like this now settles heavy in his chest. He can't do it anymore.

He had spent weeks trying to convince himself that distance was easier, that those small pauses in the brief conversations he shared with you— when you looked up at him mid-conversation and forgot what you were saying when your eyes met his; when you accidentally crashed into each other in the hallway but neither of you walked away; when you lingered at the doorway when leaving, trying to find an excuse to stay a while longer… Whatever that was, it would be better left alone.

He couldn't afford any distractions, he needed to keep himself focused and collected if he wanted his plans to unfold the way they should. Besides, the farther you were away from him, the safer you'd be.

—

The last rays of sunlight disappear and the night breeze shakes the leaves above as it welcomes the moonlight. Although it has gotten darker, he still can see the faint tremor in your hands even from where he stands. You look like you could break at any moment.

Taking courage, he steps closer. He knows you must be watching from the corner of your eye as he approaches you, yet you remain exactly as you are. Law only stops when he's barely a step away, and is surprised that even then you still refuse to look at him. Doing his best not to annoy you any further, he crouches down, resting his head against his folded arms as he simply watches. His eyes move to your face and he sees the faint shine of the tears you're trying very poorly to hide. Your eyes… Have they always been this beautiful? Your eyelashes cling and sparkle when another tear clouds your eye, and it reminds him of dew falling on a petal.

The white robe you're wearing moves softly with the wind and forms gentle waves. The fabric, thin and light, gathers at your waist and falls in elegant layers along your frame. It's something he has never seen you wear before. And… It suits you. The robe is adorned with delicate thread patterns of different botanical species that flow along the edges of the cloth. Clearly something not meant to be worn when climbing trees, and he can't help but smile at the thought. What were you thinking?

Still, he's glad you're wearing it, no matter how dirty and stained it's become. Somehow that suits you even better, and he wonders if you're aware of how beautiful you look.

A twinkle beside your neck draws his attention, and Law notices a carefully made piece that hangs from your ear and swings gently with the breeze. A thin cord from which feathers have been tied alongside something carved and smooth— bone, most likely. He wishes he knew the story behind how you got your ear perforated; the image of a Mink insisting on helping you, telling you how well it would suit you before you have any chance to protest comes easy to his mind, and he wishes he could have been there to see it.

He watches how it brushes lightly against the curve of your neck each time the wind moves. And without meaning to, he pictures how you'd look if you wore one of his; one of the small golden rings he wears on his own ears.

The image appears so suddenly and with such clarity it makes him stop. What exactly is he thinking? You are standing here with tears still clinging to your lashes, refusing to even look at him, and his mind is choosing this moment to adorn you with his jewelry.

Your breathing is still uneven from everything that has just happened, making your lips tremble when a shaky breath leaves them, slightly parted, and he's captivated by the way your lower lip softens with the exhale and then presses the upper one when you swallow.

He'd never paid so much attention to your mouth before; there's something disarmingly soft about them that draws his attention no matter how much he tells himself to stop, and he finds himself helplessly wondering how they might feel against his fingers. If they'd be warm, if they'd be as soft as they look against his own—

No. Idiot. He cuts the thought before it can fully form, lowering his gaze in sudden fear of being caught. His chest sinks with a mix of guilt and embarrassment for daydreaming about you when you're standing right in front of him. He can't help it, he's missed you, and is now slowly realizing how inevitably close that feeling has come to desire.

You both knew there had always been something between you. Though it had been too awkward and quiet, it had also been simultaneously loud and obvious to everyone around you, even for you. But still, whenever your crewmates brought it up, the two of you continued to deny it, thinking it was inconvenient enough and not worth your time nor heartbreak. This alliance was going to end soon anyway.

But now that he's able to see things from a different perspective, he finds himself at a loss for what to do; this feeling is no longer a passing curiosity he can simply ignore or deny. Now that you're right in front of him, he has no idea how he's supposed to approach you in that way without losing you again.

Your fingers twitch, it's getting colder, and Law notices the injury in your hand. Ah, the branch must have scrapped your skin during your fall earlier, and you probably haven't even looked at it.

Slowly, he rises from his crouch and steps closer, still unsure whether getting closer could only make things worse, but he's willing to take the risk. Once he's reached you, he slowly reaches for your hand and gently holds it in his.

He was right. His thumb brushes along the reddened skin of your palm, assessing the scratches that he's glad to see aren't deep and nothing more than irritation. Still, it bothers him. And before he can quite stop himself, his fingers close around your hand, until he's carefully squeezing it, bringing it closer to his face as he lowers his head. He fights the irrational urge to suddenly hold you, and instead is only able to press your knuckles against his forehead while he stays still, like you're the most precious thing he's ever held... like it's something he had almost lost the chance to ever hold.

That's enough to make your tears stop and pull your attention back to him, taken aback by the sudden gesture that looks almost like a reverence.

Judging by the tears you've shed, the injury in your hands is hardly the worst thing he's caused tonight. And Law begins to understand what's been shaking you this entire time— why you've been trying so hard to avoid him, why you happened to be ‘lost', and he fears you had simply been trying to get as far away from him as you could.

How long have you believed he was dead? How many times had that thought crossed your mind and made you feel? The alliance ending painfully sooner, and those gunshots being the last thing anyone ever heard of him. Even though you were never anything to each other (or at least not out-loud), the thought of you carrying that grief… of you believing he had died when things had been left unsaid, things he had never allowed himself to name; it all made him feel like a complete idiot.

Had you imagined it? His broken and lifeless body laying somewhere where it could not be retrieved? Had it been fair of him to steal glances at you when he thought you weren't looking, to hold your gaze a second too long until heat rose to your cheeks and you asked, half flustered, if he needed something. Only for him to look away and leave you standing there with the answer he always avoided.

His fingers tighten around your hand because he knew, he knew none of this came out of nowhere. He'd been playing the role of a fool, then walked into his death and left you with nothing but silence.

"…I'm sorry."

Of all the things you thought Law might say tonight, an apology had never crossed your mind, and even less one as genuine and vulnerable as he had just let it out.

You feel your chest tighten as tears begin to fill your eyes even more than before, making an effort to swallow the stir that's forming in your stomach before it comes undone against your will.

"Don't… say it like that," your voice trembles.

Law remains for a moment as he is, your hand still resting against his forehead. Not exactly sure what to do, he slowly lifts his head to take a proper look at you. Your knuckles slide from his brow and brush along the bridge of his nose, until they come to rest against the side of his face. His mouth curves into a sad smile when he meets your eyes, glad you're finally not avoiding him anymore. For a second it almost looks like he might lean further into your hand and press a devoted kiss to it, but he halts before it fully happens and keeps your hand pressed tightly against his lips instead. The way he's looking at you right now is enough to steal the air from your lungs.

You had seen Law irritated, distant, quietly amused and cold most of the time. But this… this softness feels almost unreal in him. The sharpness that usually rests in his face has been replaced by something deeply gentle.

"You don't want me to apologize?" he asks in the most vulnerable tone, coming muffled against your hand.

"That's not what I—" his thumb brushes lightly over your fingers, and the quiet devotion with which he keeps holding you there makes it difficult to breathe.

Your eyes are completely captivated by his, and the silence between you suddenly feels dense, briefly broken by a strong breeze that makes the leaves sway and fall around you.

Law lowers your hand with a reluctant slowness before letting it go, only so that he can step closer instead and settle his hands on your face. His palms cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rest just beneath your eyes, gently brushing the traces where your tears still linger, and the way he looks at you then is so unbearably tender that it makes something inside your chest swirl in heat.

Then, very slowly, he leans closer, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he closes his eyes, still holding you with bewitching devotion.

Your breath catches and your heart stumbles into a nervous rhythm. You can feel the faint brush of his breath against your lips and the steadiness with which he remains there, holding you in this moment of intimacy that you never imagined he'd be so able to express; your entire body melting beneath each tender gesture he makes.

"Law? I—" your lungs struggle to keep you steady, "I'm… not used to this."

He leans back a small distance, his hands remaining exactly where they are, and you can see the moonlight glow on his eyes when he opens them.

"And you think I am?"

You can see the intensity behind that look when he says it, feeling the space between you grow even closer than before, and when you catch his eyes drift to your lips, you feel your heart beat even faster and all strength leave your system. You try to draw in more air, making your lips part slightly without meaning to.

Law notices, and his eyes seem to ask for permission when he lifts them to meet yours.

Your eyes get heavy when he leans in again, his warm breath drawing closer and brushing your lips, until you finally feel the gentle press of them against yours. It feels even better than what he's imagined. They are smoother and softer than what he expected, and give in easily beneath his own as he presses further.

When you slightly part, he feels the slight tremor of your breath against his mouth; his chest tightens when he realizes that you are just as nervous as he is. You are here, you are real.

His thumbs move against your skin before he presses his lips on yours once more, his hands tightening as he deepens the kiss and your thoughts scatter completely. Your hands slip into his hair, loosening his hat and making it fall and land at the bottom of the tree with a quiet thud that Law doesn't seem to mind.

When your fingers grab his hair, you feel the last fragile restraint finally snap inside him; his arms slip around you in a sudden, undeniable need to keep you close, bringing you closer against his chest until there is no space left between your bodies at all.

He's wanted you for so long he wonders why he ever spent so much time holding back, unsure what to do with the overwhelming sensation that is now stripping him of all logical thought now that he finally has you in his arms.

As impossible as it would be to hold back the breeze that shakes the leaves, or ask the stars to abandon this night, he's now absolutely certain it'd be impossible to ever let you go.