Pardon the Intrusion: Trafalgar Law x Reader

Chapter 7

A/N: So, height... for the sake of this story, you're around 5'6ft/170cm (which is pretty damn tall for something who is malnourished... blame law for being tall). Also, you are severely underweight, for obvious reasons (you received one bowl of white rice every day, sooo..).
y/n: first name (sorry this is a little confusing)
l/n: last name

e/c: eye colour
h/c: hair colour
h/l: hair length
s/c: skin colour (look at your skin right now, and imagine what it would look like if you have not been under sunlight for 13 years. dw, you'll get your beautiful colour back in the near future.)

Law's POV:

"What do I look like?" The question hit me like a storm. All the pieces that I didn't understand suddenly come together and form a picture. The nameless island that wasn't on any map, the excessive of the navy, the news of missing children, and finally, this broken girl who stumbled into our ship. 

I had heard rumours about a government project being held on an island in the New World, but I didn't expect to land there by accident or to pick up a test subject on the shore. I turn and her e/c irises lock into mine, an invisible power behind her gaze compelling me to walk back into the room. I sigh and look at the polar bear sulking in the corner.

"Bepo, you can go have a rest now. Tell the crew in the morning to mind their own businesses and keep quiet. Also, get Shachi and Penguin to clean up the infirmary."

Y/n's POV:

I stand in front of the mirror, observing the body that had become so foreign in the 13 years I didn't see it. I stare into my own eyes, the light reflecting off the e/c orbs making the glisten. My finger traces each feature of my face, the details so different yet familiar. 

I vaguely remember the liveliness in my s/c skin 13 years ago, now the healthiness was replaced with a crude and ghostly pastiness. 

A strand of hair falls across my forehead. I comb my fingers through the h/l h/c mess, the hair still held a stickiness from before despite the effort to clean it up. I continue to admire my reflection, the tall man relaxing on the bed behind me. 

"Let's try this again," I cautiously watch him as he props himself up against the wall, "what's your name? I'm Trafalgar Law, you can call me Law." He waits patiently with his head resting on a knuckle and a lick of humour on his lip. 

What if he hits me? 

My eyes flicker from his face to mine as I replay my mother's voice saying each syllable of my name. I shiver, remembering the many times I woke in the white room, almost forgetting my own name. 

If I told him, then it'll be alright if I forget my name, there's someone who will remember for me.

"L/n y/n. My name is l/n y/n." I hear a satisfied hum but it was quickly followed by a small frown. I feel my blood begin to boil and sweat forming at my nape. 

Is he unhappy with my answer?