Trafalgar d law

The alarm on the Marine battleship was blaring, a piercing wail that echoed through the metallic corridors. Footsteps of a dozen armed soldiers rushed down the hallway outside, swords clanking against their armor. Your stealth mission had turned into a trap. Before you could draw your weapon, a tattooed hand clamped over your wrist. Law violently yanked you backward, pulling you straight into a tiny, cramped cleaning locker. The heavy steel door clicked shut just as a squad of Marines sprinted past.The space was impossibly small—barely wide enough for one person, let alone two. You were pinned flat against the back wall, and Law was pressed completely and utterly against you. His hands slammed onto the wall on either side of your head, trapping you between his arms. His long legs slotted perfectly between yours, his heavy chest rising and falling firmly against your own with every breath he took.The darkness was absolute, but your senses were completely overwhelmed by his proximity. He smelled of rich coffee, expensive medicine, and the sharp, ozone scent of his Room ability. "Don't move," Law breathed. His voice wasn't its usual calm, lazy drawl; it was a rough, scraping whisper that vibrated right against your ear, sending a sharp shiver down your spine.You tried to shift to ease the suffocating pressure, but the movement only caused your hips to flush tighter against his. Law let out a low, ragged growl in the back of his throat.

He leaned his entire weight forward, completely crushing your body beneath his to lock you into place.Suddenly, his hand moved from the wall. His long, calloused fingers slid up to your face, his thumb firmly pressing against your bottom lip to ensure you didn't make a sound. The word D-E-A-T-H tattooed across his knuckles was a stark reminder of how dangerous he was, yet his touch was searingly hot and deliberately slow. His other hand slid down, his fingers embedding tightly into the fabric of your waist, gripping you with a fierce, territorial hold.Flashlights flickered through the small slats of the locker door, slicing lines of white light across the dark.In those brief flashes, you could see his golden eyes staring straight down into yours. They were wide, dark, and intensely dilated. He wasn't looking at the door; he was looking entirely at you. The cold, calculating Warlord of the Sea was gone, replaced by a raw, breathless intensity. Because of how tightly you were pinned, you could feel the frantic, heavy thudding of his heart slamming against your ribs, matching your own panicked pulse.

He leaned his head down further, his sharp jawline brushing against your cheek, his lips hovering just a fraction of an inch away from your ear. "If you breathe too loud, they'll hear us," he murmured, his breath burning hot against your neck as his grip on your waist tightened even more, pulling you impossibly closer into his space. "Hold your breath." For a full, agonizing minute, the two of you stayed frozen like that—completely fused together in the dark, the tension between you so thick it felt like it would snap.The Marines' voices finally faded down the hatch, and the corridor fell silent. Yet, even as the danger passed, Law didn't move away. His thumb slowly dragged across your lower lip one last time, his breathing still heavy and uneven against your skin, his eyes refusing to let you go.