It was early morning in the Polar Tang, the morning sun barely seeping through the porthole in Law’s bedroom.

Law stirred in his sleep as the rays of light hit his face, eliciting a soft groan from his lips as his eyes squinting open. He rolled over with a huff, blocking out the light. He laid there for a beat, gathering his groggy thoughts before his sleepy gaze flicked to you, still asleep in his arms.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “Good morning,” he breathed, partly to himself.