Luffy likes the sound of his feet padding against the wet pavement—but he hasn't a clue on how to properly describe that sound. It's not exactly a splat, but it's also not the beat of simple footsteps. His ears hungrily hang onto the noise as well as the sound of raindrops hitting concrete; a din he's completely familiar with, being born and raised in Seattle. A homely sensation. His flip-flops are dangling from his fingers, index and flicker curled around the thong. He gets looks like this—walking around barefoot—but Luffy has never been one to care about such trivial affairs. A breeze flutters through his bangs, chilling his shins. The denim of his shorts have started to get damp, so it's a good thing that Luffy has finally arrived at his destination: the public library. Not the most riveting building to spend his weekend in, but he's supposed to be working on a project for his history class—and he can't focus with Ace strumming away on his guitar and Sabo's annoying cooing into a receiver (Koala's decision to study out of state has begun to affect all of them) (namely, Luffy can't get any of his homework done at home). His flip-flops land on the sidewalk with a clatter, Luffy slipping them onto his wet feet. Parading inside government owned buildings without shoes on is frowned upon, apparently.

The leather thongs are chafing between his toes; but he's used to it. The door opens with a rush of warm air and Luffy gives a contented sigh, letting his hood fall down. The fabric rest lazily over his favorite hat, that's clinging to his neck with twine arms—an old, withering straw-hat that was given to him by his adoptive father. Luffy's most treasured item—not hard to guess, considering the fact that the teenager keeps it on his person at all moments. He doesn't bother to let his feet dry. Just stomps them over the welcome rug for a moment, forcing the loose droplets off from his skin. It's a bit obnoxious, really, but he only just grins when the lady manning the check-out counter shoots him a dirty look—a big, wide ear-to-ear that she can't help but to smile in return to. A small curl of the lips that show she's already resigned to Luffy's actions. His skin is still a bit damp but that doesn't deter him from making his way deeper through the maze of bookshelves, taking a path to the back of the building; where there's a secluded corner of tables, perfect for parking his ass in a chair and studying.

Which is exactly what he does. Snuggles down into the cushion and digs a textbook and his notebook from his backpack. He sighs, a bit forlorn (ugh, homework), but dutifully, he cracks open both books and gets started. Occasionally, he stops and plays with his pencil, or doodles, or pops his knuckles; he's much too antsy to not take these little breaks. Luffy doesn't even notice the man hoarding the next table over—a man with his fingers practically attached to his keyboard, typing away. But then he looks over and, "Oh, hey, you're—" the guy I almost spilled my hot chocolate on.

Luffy actually blushes. Cheeks painted an uncomfortable cherry.

Said guy takes a peek over his laptop. Stares at Luffy for a moment with cocked eyebrows, squinting, before an expression of realization passes over his face. His top layer of teeth rake over his bottom lip, visage morphing into a manifestation of awkwardness—as if he's not quite sure how to respond.

Luffy spares the other the pain of responding. "Yeah, I—- sorry about almost spilling my hot chocolate on you."

The other male's face relaxes a bit. Runs a hand through his black hair and Luffy idly notices how messy the strands are. Hat hair. He thinks it fits the guy. "It's fine. Not like you actually spilled it on me."

Those words are all it takes for Luffy's face to be filled with a lip-splitting smile. Quite easily, he switches from bashful to his usual over-exuberance and sociability; always the extrovert. "I'm Luffy," he says, turning sideways in his chair and slinging an arm over the spine of the seat. "Who're you?" Always ever blunt, as well. Or so he's been told.

"Law." The answer is immediate. Short and crisp and Luffy is already getting a clue of Law's personality. It doesn't deter him in the slightest. Luffy rest his chin on his forearm and Law slides off his reading glasses, as if he somehow senses that Luffy isn't going to just stop there. Of course the teenager's smile only grows wider—making him eighty percent smile and twenty percent facial features.

"Law?" he muses lightly. "That's a cool name. I like it. So, what 'cha doin', Law?"

He's being stared at for a lingering moment. Luffy takes that time to observe the haunting dark circles plaguing Law's eyes. Insomnia? He has enough manners pounded into him to know that he shouldn't ask about that. Yet. Poised like a cat, Law lets one corner of his lips pull into something of a sardonic smirk. For only a second, and Luffy wonders if maybe that's just the other's natural disposition. "Writing an essay."

Luffy's head lulls into a tilt, like a curious puppy. "You're a student? You look too old." Ouch. If Makino were here, she'd scold him for being rude.

But Law just does that little smirk again—Luffy's eyes train onto the lines of his mouth—and he says, "A biomedical student." Luffy's face scrunches up as though he has just had something sour. Nose wrinkled and mouth puckered; Law can't help but to chuckle, just a little.

"That sounds hard." The tone is childish and a bit whimsical, as per usual—Luffy always has his head in the clouds, feet planted in the ground with dirt between his toes. His thin bottom lip curves into a subtle pout, biting lightly on the tip of his tongue. "A lot harder than what I'm doing." Or what he's currently procrastinating doing. Whatever. He has all of tomorrow to finish it anyways. The pout disappears, transforming into an almost blinding smile—all glimmering teeth and slim lips, before he proposes, "Maybe you should take a break. We could go out and have some coffee." It's a bit brazen; Luffy doesn't even register the simple implication of his words. Just an innocent little offer in his mind, and it's most certainly not because Luffy likes the other's tattoos or the high planes of his cheeks (which make Law appear almost feline). Luffy doesn't actually expect the other man to accept—he's obviously younger, and childish, and just pure—-

So it's a bit surprising when Law shrugs and says, "Sure."

Still not quite sure where I'm going with this story. A bit short and a little boring, honestly, and maybe I'll find a beta-reader soon to double-check my grammar. But anyways, hope it tickles your fancy so far.