There was a boy at your high school. Trafalgar Law. He was... certainly something. You thought he was cute. If he weren't so intimidating, you'd gladly approach him. Unfortunately for you, you were terrified of every emo in your school. It didn't help that all of them were taller than you and loomed in the corners of rooms like threats during each period.

You were in your art class of the day. The universe seemed to love you, as you were shoved together into a group with Law and told to create a painting together. You avoided all eye contact you could as you gathered supplies with him. You could NOT focus on how hot his eyeliner was, and how all of his clothes went perfectly together. You definitely couldn't die over how cool all of the rings on his fingers were. Not to mention the tattoos-- 'DEATH'?! Who let him get those?!

"Hey," He spoke, his voice deep and smooth. "What should we make?"