SKELETON KEY • heart pirates

DIE BY YOUR HAND TONIGHT

Nothing to say except this is completely shameless smut.

Pairing(s) - Law/Arisa.

Warning(s) - Explicit sexual content, please be warned! 

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A low rumble of thunder resounded over the Spira Island's central harbor, only faintly muffled past the the steady patter of rain against the Polar Tang's metallic hull. The moored vessel rocked gently as the waves swelled and thrashed. Law opened his eyes and stared up at the darkened ceiling, listening intently to the storm. Curled up next to him, Arisa stirred a little in her sleep with a soft indistinguishable murmur. He shifted, pulling the blanket up over them both and holding her closer.

The wind grew stronger, gusting against the little porthole. Rivulets of rainwater gushed down the glass in striated sheets, distorting the view outside to a mess of weeping gray colors. The little harbor town of Spira Island was built along the mountainside, the tortuous thoroughways and boulevards carved into the slope as crooked shelves at varying elevations. Law remembered the bustling market plaza he had visited with his crew the day before – the long lines at the fishmonger's stall, the colorfully dressed locals, the drunkards congregated at the bars, the wizened, grizzled peddlers pushing their painted carts over the cobblestones. He pictured how the place must be now, in the pouring rain and growing dark: the stalls closed and boarded up, the decorative trees battered by the wind gusts, the parks and streets emptied save only a few pitiable stragglers hurrying to get home.

Thunder boomed in the distance – louder now – and the sky lit up in a brilliant crackle of electricity. He looked away from the window, averting his scowl of annoyance. Inclement weather was a regular occurrence on the Grand Line, of course, but they'd always tried to avoid the worst of storms by submerging deep underwater, where the turbulence from the waves above rarely posed a significant threat. His hand slowly drifted down Arisa's arm, ghosting along her side, before coming to a rest against the flat of her stomach. She was completely relaxed in his arms, her breathing even and gentle. Her expression in sleep was softened in a way she'd never show consciously to the world.

The wind continued to shriek, and the waves thrashed noisily along the sides of the vessel. The floor rocked again as another thread of lightning illuminated the skies, casting the room in a stark array of light and shadows.

The bed creaked, drawing his attention back down to his companion.

"What is it?" Arisa mumbled groggily, turning to face him.

Law grunted, pulling her in to rest his chin atop her head.

"Just a rainstorm. It'll pass eventually. Go back to sleep."

She hummed. Her warm breath fanned out over his skin – soft and even.

"Are you worried for them?"

Most days, the Polar Tang was alive with sounds and activity – the life of a submariner dictated that working shifts always overlapped – but days like these were a welcome exception. The Log Pose wouldn't reset for another day and a half, and the rest of the crew had taken advantage of the reprieve to spend the rest of their visit on shore. Law wondered idly what they must be up to now – most likely holed up in a bar or an inn somewhere, too inebriated to even notice the change in weather.

"Why would I be?" he retorted, though there was no real bite to his tone. "They can handle themselves."

She smiled into his neck and shifted again, eyes starting to drift shut again. Strands of silver brushed over the slope of her nose, her forehead. He stiffened, then slowly relaxed when she touched his sternum, fingers curling gently over the flared lobe of his tattoo. Her hand was warm with lethargy, just like the rest of her.