Oi, oi....: pandasurgeon: zoro-aniki: pandasurgeon: zoro-aniki replied to your... →
Why. Why did it have to be his face? It was always a risk that he’d end up marred in some way, shape or form… but he always, always hoped it wouldn’t be his face. Went out of his way to make sure nothing ruined his face. Eyes flickered down, unable to meet Zoro’s.
“…because…” He rose fingers to touch the bruise, his wince more one of complete despair than pain. “I’ve never had to worry about that before, I know I’m good looking. It’s one of the only things I’ve ever been sure of. My looks and my intelligence. I can deal with not understanding my mind, not being sure of myself… but… hnn.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said sternly and yanked the man’s chin up again, forcing Law to look at him.
“I wouldn’t care if you didn’t even have a face, okay? I didn’t choose to be with you because of your looks. Yeah, you’re good-looking, but that’s only half the story. And it matters a hell of a lot less than what’s inside,” he stated, moving his hand down to Law’s chest.
He gestured at the scar over his eye then. “You love me for this,” and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the bruise on the man’s jaw. “Why can’t I love you for this?”
Law froze at the little kiss, mind playing over the words as he tried to formulate some kind of response to that. Any kind of response. The first thing to come to mind, however, had nothing to do with his own injuries, nothing to do with his own looks. He frowned slightly and reached up to take Zoro’s face between hands, shaking his head.
“Don’t be so stupid… I don’t love you because of that,” he muttered, eyes flickering to the scar. “I don’t love you because of scars, or because you’re strong, or even because you’re the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on!” The doctor puffed out cheeks, but quickly stopped as it stung that bruise. No pouting then… dammnit. He shook his head again and pulled a hand away, instead pressing it to Zoro’s chest over his heart.
“I love you because of this. Every part of you… is important to me. But the most important part of you is right here, understand?” He gave Zoro a stubborn look before ducking his head to press a kiss to the spot. “As long as you still have this, as long as you’re you… that’s what matters.”
Zoro nodded in agreement and kissed softly at Law’s temple with a smile, ruffling a hand through his hair affectionately.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and stood again, hand still holding Law’s for a minute until he let go. “Where do you keep bandages?” he asked, grabbing up a towel and tossing it onto Law, taking one himself and running it through his hair.
He snatched the towel, ruffling it through his hair and peering out at Zoro from under it. “Oh, in my medical bag,” he replied, gesturing to the large, black shoulder bag tossed a little haphazardly on one of the nearby beanbags. “Be careful though, there are a few syringes and a lot of scalpels in there,” he added quickly.
In the meantime Law preoccupied himself to peeling off yet another shirt. It seemed he couldn’t go a day without soaking or ruining on or more of those either. He balled the vest shirt and tossed it into a corner of the room, grumbling to himself softly about running out of clothes before he could be bothered to wash any. The pants were next off, and he had to get up to stalk a circle around the room until he found a pair of jeans that seemed to be more holes than fabric.
Zoro nodded and rummaged around in the bag carefully, pulling out two rolls of bandages after a minute.
He walked back over to the bed again and was about to sit down, when he suddenly became conscious of how wet he still was, sheepishly glancing down at his own dripping clothes while Law got changed.
“Here,” he said, handing over the bandages. “D’you, uh…got anything else I can change into?” And he stripped off his shirt, slinging the wet fabric over his shoulder.
Law took the bandages thankfully and smiled, then furrowed his brows at the question. “Hmm… I might have something,” he nodded, “let me check.” The doctor hopped to his feet again and scurried over to the almost empty chest of clothes, tossing things out and grumbling to himself. “I have to wash some things…”
Thankfully he bypassed the dresses, and the tights, and returned with a pair of tiny boxers and a vest shirt with a sheepish grin on his face. “These are all I have clean… unless you want to wear one of those,” he mumbled, jerking his chin at the discarded dresses.
(Source: pandasurgeon)
