hi lovelies. let me know your thoughts on this: bad, good, trash, crap lol, be brutal. otherwise, enjoy!

Two Months Ago

Law had been vigorously tackling a lab that was due that very evening when Kidd came up from behind him, his scarred hands settling on the desk on each side of Law's torso, thus successfully imprisoning him. The veins on his arms twitched as he didn't receive a single reaction from the focused doctor to-be, compelling him to take a step closer so that his chest pressed against Law's back.

With a small sigh, Law ceased his writing and turned his face to address his eager partner. "I'm busy, Eustass. Keep your hands to yourself until I'm finished."

An amused groan escaped Kidd's mouth. "We've been going out for over almost months now and you still call me Eustass."

Law, now tapping speedily across a calculator, takes a moment to finally respond with an impatient, "And?"

"And," Kidd murmured, his lips hovering lazily over Law's left ear, "It's really fucking hot."

"Then stop complaining and give me room to breathe," Law reasoned, now taking matters into his own hands. He had practically finished the lab by then, but didn't see any harm in indulging a little more in the task of frustrating the man pressed up against him. It was amusing, to say the least, and he had the time for it. His hands proceeded to jot down a flurry of notes that, to his advantage, Kidd would never figure out were utter gibberish. It did, however, serve as a fantastic way to further irritate him.

"Oy, I'm getting fucking old back here," he growled, a sound that borderline touched into the territory of whining, which only further amused Law.

"And what am I to do if I fail this assignment because of you, Eustass?" he idly responded, still feigning his disinterest.

Kidd scoffed, "Like that could ever happen. You're a practical genius, you don't need to spend a whole goddamn evening to ensure your A. We both know that."

Law hummed, only slightly surprised that his partner was catching onto his game. A flash of realization hit him as he noted the calm in his mind. Perhaps not a perfect calm, but a calm nonetheless. Whether it was because of the person now gliding a hand up his tattooed arms or otherwise, he wasn't quite sure. But it was something he felt the need to cling onto. Anything that somewhat relieved the constant pain he seemed to suffer from was worth a shot.

Present

Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-

Law's hand shot up and slammed against the alarm clock, and he got up.

His day started off normally, although unlike most people, he rarely took a moment in bed to collect himself before beginning his morning routine. As soon as his mind was awake and thinking, he did everything in his power to distract himself. Even if it was with nothing but the smallest, most mundane everyday life tasks.

Slipping his feet into his pair of house slippers, - with the words "Trust me," sewed neatly on the left one, and "I'm (almost) a doctor" on the right - he proceeded to disappear into his bathroom, where he slipped his electric toothbrush off of its stand and took exactly two whole minutes to brush his teeth, after which he thoroughly flossed them. Lastly, he washed his face, moisturized and put his contacts in. For breakfast, he made himself an omelette with chives, a few pieces of spinach, and only a pinch of salt. Then he poured a tall glass of room temperature water for himself. And he ate. While scanning through the news on his phone, that is, because he couldn't allow his mind a moment of silence if he could help it.

Once he was finished, he washed his dishes, set them to dry and proceeded to change into his outfit of the day, which usually consisted of whatever seemed practical for the weather. If it was warm out, he would wear his light jeans, and a plain T-shirt (usually grey, black or if he was feeling particularly fancy that day, navy blue). If it was slightly chilly, he would add a jacket to that. And if it was cold, he would wear a coat, a heavier pair of jeans, and perhaps a scarf to protect his neck. Today, however, was warm.

And thus, he carefully slipped on his shoes, flipped the light switch off and left his apartment.

Off to the library.

As he walked, his phone rang.

"Yeah?" he merely answered, already aware of the person on the other end.

"Morning to you too, crank," the familiar sound of Shachi came through. Law's tense walking soothed at hearing his friend's voice, whether he liked to admit it or not.

"Good morning, Shachi," he calmly responded, his fingers on the phone relaxing.

"I'm at the cafe, thought I could bring you a coffee at the library."

Law's mind almost instantly shot out with "No", although he quickly realized how defensive that would have sounded. He was already on his way to the cafe, and though he would have agreed on any other day to save him the rest of the trip across campus, he didn't want to take Shachi's offer that particular morning. He allowed himself only a second to contemplate the reason behind that before answering more collectively with, "That's quite alright. I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," his friend concluded their call rather quickly, relieving Law of having to voice any explanations.

As he approached the door of the cafe, his hand instinctively went to fluff his head of perfectly messed locks before landing on the doorknob and twisting it. His eyes easily found Shachi, his crazy orange hair standing out like nothing he'd ever quite encountered before. Law offered a small wave in hello when his friend caught his eyes only a moment later.

"Hey!" he said, ushering Law to the vacant spot next to him at a corner table. Law held his index finger out, silently asking his friend to wait on him.

He approached the counter and almost voiced his daily order before realizing that it wasn't a head of black and a smile that greeted him, but rather a striking blonde one with an indifferent expression. Quite like his own, in fact. And the one he was initially more used to seeing. A rather unprecedented pang of irritation struck him.

"Hi, how can I help you?" the man robotically said, his swirly eyebrow twitching consistently with the rest of his body. Law studied him briefly. Shaking body, a finger rapidly tapping at the counter, a generally anxious vibe. He must have been a smoker who had gone a tad too long without a cigarette. Law cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused at the self-control the man was showing despite the bodily signs that begged for otherwise. He finally relieved the uptight guy by saying his order, thereby giving him an excuse to hold on a bit longer.

"Here you are," he finally said, handing him his order and change before tending to the next customer.

Law made his way back to Shachi who was now looking anxious himself, his foot shaking violently against the table. It seemed as though it was a day where everyone he encountered was on tenterhooks. Putting his coffee down on the table to stop his friend from practically breaking the thing, Law then slid into the empty seat and looked up at him questioningly.

Shachi smiled, a weird, half-hearted smile, before taking an unnecessarily large gulp of his overly-creamed (in Law's opinion, that is) cup of coffee. "I've got a really important presentation in an hour, and I don't think I can do it. You know how I am, I suck at talking in front of people, and honestly, I'm probably going to just skip it, I don't really need this grade anyway, I can probably do without it, don't you think? I mean, it's not like I've been dreading this day for the entire semester and preparing endlessly or anything, but it'd probably not be a big deal if I just, like, didn't do it, right? What do you-"

"Shachi," Law cut him off, afraid that anymore of his friend's uneasy rambling might eventually rub off on him, which is something Law's state of mind simply couldn't handle at that point. He looked in his friends' eyes, an act he found himself being slightly discomforted by, but pressed on for Shachi's sake nonetheless. "You are not skipping this presentation. This is about showing people what you love to do. It's about perseverance. You can't possibly become a counselor if you fuck this one up."

Shachi paused, as if he had been buying Law's words up until the last sentence. His eyes crinkled and his vociferous laugh blurted out his lips, his sense of uneasiness dialed down, "It's like you can't keep your mouth shut without being brutally honest, man."

Law's shoulders eased a tad. He wasn't the best at comforting words, although he often gave his best shot when it came to Shachi. And that was truly the best he could do, even after almost a decade of trying at it. In any case, it worked, somewhat. That had to count for something. He sat back in his chair and allowed the comforting scent of plain coffee to take over his senses for a moment; perhaps it would help ease the gnawing frustration he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. His morning wasn't going the way he had planned. Any time something didn't go the way his mind had initially set in place, a sense of indignation settled over him. This was an aspect of himself he often tried to change, though it never quite panned out for him.

By the time he finished his coffee, Shachi was on his seventh mock-run of his presentation, after which Law gently took hold of the tablet he was scrolling through maniacally and shoved it aside. Shachi looked up at him defeatedly.

"You'll be fine. I promise."

The two walked out of the cafe at a quarter to one, which gave them just enough time to stroll comfortably to their respective lectures. Law peaked at his watch one more time to check, however, as he could never be too safe. As they walked, he noted this rather uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. Something he rarely felt around Shachi, which only made it more discerning. He waited patiently.

"Err, Law?" his friend finally said, his strained tone of voice confirming Law's initial feeling. Instead of replying, he waited for Shachi to continue, which may have been a bad idea, as his response seemed to take longer than what he would have liked.

Eventually, though, he spoke. "How've you been doing, with...you know. The whole Kidd thing."

Ah. There it was.

Law had been anticipating this at the very back burner of his mind, although he had hoped it would never come up in conversation. A part of him had known that Shachi would give him the space he needed about the entire ordeal, but another part of him also knew that he was just too caring of a friend to be able to hold back for too long. He allowed a small, dread-filled breath of air to escape his lungs before replying.

"I'm doing fine," he offered, his tone of voice as placid and unreadable as ever. He wasn't stupid - he realized this response would only further worry his friend, although he really had nothing else to say about it. He didn't feel happy, or sad. And thus, he was fine.

As predicted, a flash of concern swept across Shachi's face.

Law's eyes didn't dwell very long on the look, however, because a rather blindingly red shirt screamed for attention only ten feet away from where they stood. His gaze moved to the person wearing it, and he soon realized it was the new barista -Luffy-, the scar beneath his left eye as distinct as ever. His hair was messier than usual, although not in an intentional way, but rather, in a "I missed my alarm this morning" sort of way. Paired with his ridiculously bright shirt were some jean shorts, and a flimsy pair of black flip flops. He was walking next to a tall, green-haired hunk of a man, his hands moving animatedly as he contrast between them was quite comical. Frankly, he looked more like a twelve year old than a first year in college. This made the smallest of smiles flare onto Law's lips.

They passed each other without a word, and yet that nagging feeling he had been having had simply withered away.