Law was a doctor, so hearing the phrase “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” was nothing new. He had ignored it for most of his life—until you came along.

You didn’t remember exactly when you started eating apples so often, but somehow, it had become a habit. Maybe it was convenience, maybe it was just an easy snack. Either way, it was never intentional.

It wasn’t until Penguin made an offhand comment related to the idiom that you realized how funny it would be. From then on, it became a game to you.

Every time you two argued, big or small, no matter whose fault it was, you made a point of grabbing an apple. Sometimes, you took an exaggerated bite. Other times, you tossed it at him with a smug look. And every time, Law’s lips twitched in barely restrained annoyance.

But one night, when he told you (for the third time) to go to bed early and you stubbornly refused, you reached for an apple, smirking as you tossed it toward him.

This time, when you tossed the apple his way, Law caught it mid-air. He brought it to his lips and took a slow, deliberate bite. The crisp crunch echoed in the room. He chewed, swallowed, then finished the rest as you watched, dumbfounded because you expected that he would likely threw the apple back to you like usual.

Tossing the apple core into the bin, he finally spoke. “No matter how many apples you eat, that idiom doesn’t apply to me.”