The Outburst Was Met With The Wary Sigh Of Someone Who Expected That Sort Of Reaction, But Still Somehow

　the outburst was met with the wary sigh of someone who expected that sort of reaction, but still somehow got their hopes up anyway. disappointed, but not with lawーhe was the one person rosinante could never bring himself to be disappointed in. because none of how law was acting was his fault;

he shouldn't expect a kid who, for the past three years, had been meticulously counting down the days until his death to not be bitter. he shouldn't expect a kid in this much chronic pain on top of all their exhausting hikes to not be irritable. he shouldn't expect a kid constantly being treated like he was subhuman by every stranger they've met to not be angry. and he shouldn't expect a kid he was dragging around from island to islandーconstantly retraumatizing him for what was increasingly feeling like no reasonーto not hate him.

　❝ ...sorry. ❞

law had every right to treat him like this, to treat the world like this, yet even so rosinante was disappointed. he wanted so badly to connect with this kid, to show him that he was on his sideーbut law had been let down so many times that nothing seemed to work. every word of his was misinterpreted, every action of his was annoying, even the silence between them (something law would often demand when rosinante's chattering got too much) seemed to piss him off.

this outburst was larger than usual, though, and the heart executive tried to retain every word of it. he wasn't going to get defensive, he wasn't going to sugarcoat it, he was just going to listen.

the blonde nodded and did as asked, a sharp intake of breath as he straightened his foot enough to slip out of his shoe and peeled off his sock, tucking one inside the other and setting it aside.

　❝ i wasn't trying to, i'm real sorry if i gave you that impression. i just... i'm making this hard enough on you, okay? and you might not think i feel bad about it, but i do. the last thing i want is you having to worry about me. ❞ he cut himself short before he could utter the words 'because i know you're in more pain right now' because he knew that kind of pity would get them nowhere. probably make things worse, actually. he couldn't afford that right now.

    how long was he going to keep this up  — trying to pretend there was nothing wrong? is he doing it because he is just a boy, because as a kid, law is supposed to be blissfully unaware? the possibilities as to why the man insists on tripping over an unstable, undoubtedly painful, ankle swim within the pensive little doctor's mind. either way, it was getting annoying. 

    it takes only one more out-of-the-ordinary stumble, after several hours of observing from behind, before features twist in irritation and brows crease downward. he's fed up with it. if corazón wouldn't just say something was wrong, law would make him.

    the movement is quick and quiet, almost unnoticeable, as law increases his walking pace to deliver as swift and hard a kick as his short leg will allow to the towering man's foot — the foot which was clearly being favored all this time. and as corazón goes down in pain, the boy's small frame doesn't even flinch. he remains stiffly in place, glowering down at the blonde with angry amber hues that almost appear to glow beneath the shadowy brim of his spotted hat. the stare is held for the minute or so it takes the grounded man to make light of the situation. it pisses law off even more.

    ❝ don't lie to me! ❞ he shouts abruptly, with small, pale hands clenched into fists at his sides. ❝ i'm not some dumb kid you need to baby! ❞ his chest heaves, he's already winded — from the trekking, the emotionally riled kick, the sudden yelling. it wasn't a good sign, but what about anything of his physical state is good at this point. it didn't matter. law didn't care. he hated, more than anything, being treated like a fragile, helpless child that need protecting from even the slightest inconveniences. 

    ❝ screw you. ❞ the tone is softer this time, as law's lungs work to regain breath. he drops down to a seated position, gaze finally leaving corazón as he slides his bag off shoulders, and shifts it to his lap to rummage around for supplies. but movement freezes again, briefly, for irises to glance up sharply, to shoot another glare at the blonde. ❝ take your shoe and sock off. idiot. ❞

Easily falling victim to making purchases of heart shaped items. Sorry for believing in the power of love.

　　　❝ understood. i'll... try my best. ❞

　although rosinante didn't smoke anymore (not by choice, but because a collapsed lung in the past left him no other choice if he wanted to recover) and there theoretically shouldn't be any more risk of shaky hands accidentally setting his coat on fire, he never wanted to make promises when it came to hazards. he was just a hazardous personーinjuries seemed to find him no matter what he did. as evident by his ankle injury, at least.

the former spy brushed past the issue, hoping the man wouldn't ask what he meant by that, as was common in the past. 'what? what do you mean 'you'll try'? it's not that hard to avoid getting injured.' you would think so, huh? and yet...

　　❝ your devil fruit is so functional, i'm really impressed! i bet it's fantastic in all sorts of survival situations. you ever need a place to sleep one night you can just... make one. i did a lot of traveling back in the day, i would have loved someone like you around with me! ❞ and not just because he could theoretically create casts & splints for him every time he injured himself...

( @code01746 )

No matter how many times Mr 3 warned people about his lack of knowledge on anything related to medicine; they insisted on calling him first when accidents like that happen. Being reliable was both a compliment and a curse at this point…but it was always a nice opportunity to show off his powers. Which made him extremely thrilled.

“ Fu ha ha ha~ Marvelous, isn’t it? My wax is dense as iron but not as heavy! Although not porous, I left enough openings to let your skin breathe, ga ne. ” The sculptor's hand is raised at his side, palm turned down as wax sipped from, molding itself in one crutch adequate to the other man’s height.

“..........Not flammable, but if exposed in direct contact with fire..for a looong period of time, it will melt. It’s wax after all. ” Mr 3 then softly bonks the blonde head with the crutch, stern eyes gazed up in a scolding way. “ Stay away from circle of fires or anything related to that, ga ne. Shouldn’t be hard. ” 

ray chase the man that you are

I really really wish I was a cat, I’m not built for this capatalist society but I am built for sleeping 19 hours a day and knocking things over