"So…a sword, huh?"
Law watched as the body of the decapitated zombie fell to the dirt, the head rolling off in a separate direction. Glancing back at Margaret, who walked past with an impressed look on his face, he he flicked the blood from his blade. He cleaned the rest off with an old rag he carried around, stuffing it back in his pack with the medical supplies and equipment afterwards and sheathing his sword on his back.
"What about it?" He questioned with a raised brow, following after the woman as they walked along the highway. The morning was cool, pleasantly so, especially with the rain having stopped. The moisture didn't hang quite so heavy in the air as the storm had passed, and it didn't stick to your skin as it had before. Law and Margaret walked side by side, boots crunching on the dirt and gravel of the road.
The woman smiled, one hand on the hilt of her knife in case of any zombies that might come around, the other swinging carelessly by her side as she walked. "Out of all the weapons you could have, why a sword? And…where'd you even get one?"
"Well," he started, ducking under the branch of an overhanging tree, "when the news started reporting about all the death and dying, I grabbed the closest thing in my house. Just happened to be this." He patted the top of the grip affectionately, glad to finally have it's weight returned to his back.
When they'd first arrived at Woodsfield Margaret had relinquished their weapons, and they'd kept them in the armory ever since. He hadn't realized he'd missed the familiar feeling of his sword at his back for these few weeks.
"That first day, it was hard to tell what exactly was going on. All anyone knew was that people were attacking people at alarming rates, and going out without a weapon would've been too dangerous." He shrugged, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. "Besides, it's a bit more effective than a little knife.
"You just had a sword laying around your house?" Margaret asked in disbelief, then shook her head with a smirk. "Wait, don't tell me. You used to cosplay on the side of being a doctor, yeah?"
"Nothing quite so dramatic." Law gave her an unamused glare, finally turning his gaze back to the road before them. "It was a family heirloom, passed down to me when my father passed away."
"When did he pass? If you don't mind me asking."
Law's eyes drifted past the scenery, seeing something from a long time ago. "When I was 13. My mother as well."
"Oh…I see." She replied awkwardly, looking to the ground for a moment. "I'm-"
"Don't. I've heard that phrase time enough." He cut her off, knowing exactly what she was going to say. The same words he'd heard heard pretty much his entire life. It was repetitive, redundant. Empty words.
"R-right." She stuttered, shutting her mouth and returning to looking at the path ahead. The trees on either side of the road afforded them a bit of shade from the sun. She'd insisted they take the road instead of traveling only through the forest, lest they accidentally get lost on the way to the city.
The thick silence hung for several moments, and Law relished it for the time being. With a glance at the woman beside him, he saw her resolute expression, slightly embarrassed that she'd seemingly angered him with her questions. He sighed quietly, knowing that she hadn't meant any offense by them.
"People say they're sorry too much, for things they can't control or that had nothing to do with them. After awhile the sentiment…just fades away. Loses meaning." Law decided to explain. Sure, he didn't have to like Margaret all that much, but being a stoic asshole wasn't really the best way to tolerate her either.
The black-haired woman looked up in surprise when he spoke, probably not expecting him to elaborate, but she nodded nonetheless. "I could understand that. Gets a little old after being said a thousand times, huh?"
"Yeah." He admitted, walking on towards wherever this town was. He swallowed past the lump rising in his throat. Now wasn't the time to think of what could have been. He hummed, narrowing his eyes in thought. "I don't know. For something that happened so long ago, it seems even less meaningful now. It's easy to forget that people died even before all this, before the world ended. "
"…" Margaret was silent for awhile. "Yes…I guess it is."
Instead of stopping for lunch and wasting time, they ate what few things they'd been able to take with them from the camp food supply as they travelled. It was still pretty low which meant they couldn't eat much, especially with so many people in their community, but it could last a lot longer rationed out as it was. So they weren't in any immediate danger of starving. At the moment. A day's time could certainly change that.
The pair walked on, keeping an eye out for the few zombies that wandered the road. Law would have guessed there'd be more than just the occasional zombie, but Margaret had explained that over time, the ones that wandered into the forest had been killed by the camp. Any others that happened to be in the area, the other camp had taken care of during raids, or they'd slowly gathered up in the city, naturally attracted to the noise of large groups of themselves.
Abandoned cars dotted the road, rusted and decrepit. Some of them had missing pieces, like doors or windshields. Law wouldn't be surprised if looters had already ransacked what they could out of them, taking anything that seemed useful. He couldn't help the inclination to peer inside the old cars, wondering who had once owned them, and if they'd lived long after the initial breakdown of society.
The morning sun rose high, until it was directly above them, and the trees no longer offered the shade they had a few hours earlier. The temperature rose significantly once they were bathed in the sun's rays, and the heat made Law's shirt stick to his back from sweat.
Some time later, they passed a green road sign, displaying the miles to the next few exits. "Miltonsburg. 4 miles." Margaret pointed up at the sign. "Another hour or so and we'll get there."
"How infested is the city?" Law asked out of curiosity, wondering how they'd managed to bring this survivor medications on multiple occasions so easily if the city was overrun.
She shrugged. "Not completely swarming with those things, but enough to warrant a problem. The towns and cities around here were never highly populated to begin with, so I guess that's made it a bit easier to slowly clear them out."
"Clear them out?" Law wondered aloud.
"I'm sure you remember Laings? It was the place you probably followed my people from when you arrived."
Law nodded.
"Well, I'm sure you noticed it was pretty much empty of zombies. Same for the other towns closest to us. After 2 years, little by little, there are less and less zombies in the area, until you just kill them all in a town when out scavenging and such." She shrugged again, unperturbed by the thought. "But, he's not in the middle of the city anyways. His house is a little ways outside the main roadway. There shouldn't be too much activity there."
"Hmm." Law observed with a hum, mulling over that information.
Facts still weren't adding up to him. Like why exactly were they doing this, all of this, for one survivor? Why go through all the trouble? Law had been uneasy starting out with the woman on this little trip, and that discomfort hadn't waned since their departure.
For the next few miles, the landscape gradually faded from forest on both sides to open meadows with tall grass, before finally the grass seemed to recede to a normal level, giving them both a view off in all directions. Up ahead, Law could see houses dotted here and there, the outskirts of the town they were heading towards.
"Are we getting close?" Law asked, and Margaret nodded.
She pointed to some of the houses further to their left, down a smaller road branching off from the main one. "It should be the fifth one down on the right."
About halfway to the house, they began to hear the groaning of undead once more, and two of the shambling dead appeared from behind one of the houses. They meandered their way over towards Law and Margaret slowly. Law preemptively unsheathed his sword from his back, and Margaret took out her knife at the ready. The two survivors took out the zombies with ease, and quickly made it the rest of the way to the house.
It wasn't anything spectacular on the outside. It was a rundown old home, painted a light gray, which was peeling and chipping as time went on. The stone steps leading up to the front door were cracked and falling apart. The garage looked dented in at one point, but was still intact enough to block any entrance.
Predictably, the windows were barricaded on the outside, and Law was willing to bet on the inside as well. The sides of the house and the door had scratch marks on them, most likely from zombies trying to get inside. Overall, it looked well-fortified though. They approached the front and Margaret went to knock on the door.
Her knuckles rapt sharply against the wood of the door several times. "Zach! It's Margaret, I'm coming inside!" She called, stooping down to lift the doormat. A key lay underneath, and she used it to unlock the door.
Law watched as it opened without a problem, and she replaced the key before stepping inside the house. She gestured for him to follow, and he did so, closing the door behind him. Remembering to lock it again, he stepped further into the dark house, blinking to try to adjust his eyes quicker to the lack of light.
He stood in the cluttered and dusty foyer, seeing Margaret make her way to the living room further in. To the left was a kitchen, the counter stacked high with various cans of food and a large jug of what he presumed to be water. Empty cans littered the floor, the lids scattered about. Passing it by, he went to where Margaret was.
"Zach, how are you doing? Feeling any better from last time?" She asked, approaching a blonde, young man sitting on a plush chair. He looked no more than 20 or so, maybe not even old enough to drink. His face was gaunt, sunken in from lack of food and nourishment.
"Uh…I'm fine, I guess. The pain's steadily gotten worse though." He grimaced as if to prove his point, slowly shifting his body in the chair. Law came closer, eyeing him up and down with the clinical eye he'd developed during his doctor's career.
Margaret gestured to him with a small smile. "Zach, this is Law. He used to be a doctor, and I brought him along to help you."
Law nodded, shrugging off his backpack onto the floor. Zach didn't seem too impressed with him, and looked back to Margaret.
"I didn't actually think you'd bring a doctor…hell, I didn't think you had one in your camp…" He admitted in a small voice, as if speaking also hurt. Margaret let out a little chuckle and shook her head, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. He squinted minutely, but Margaret didn't notice and he said nothing.
"I wouldn't lie like that. You told me specifically to bring one, didn't you? Then you'd come back to the camp with us so we could help you."
"Y-yeah…" He agreed half-heartedly, switching his gaze over to Law again.
Law, who'd been listening intently up to that point as he took out his precious few pieces of equipment, picked up the subtle uncertainty in the man's words. Perhaps he too felt suspicious about this woman. Or perhaps there was more to it than he knew. Hmm. This visit would prove interesting then.
"Have you been diagnosed with any illness that could be the problem?" He started by asking. While he didn't have a patient record at his disposal, he could at least try eliminating some possible theories.
Unfortunately, Zach shook his head. "No idea. I was healthy before everything happened." So much for ruling anything out. Still, he'd dealt with patients like this before. Asking the right questions usually got him the answer he was looking for.
"How long ago did you start noticing the pain?"
"Umm…about two months ago. Something like that."
"What symptoms have you noticed?" Law placed his stethoscope around his neck, walking closer to Zach and kneeling on the ground so the young man didn't have to get up or move anywhere.
At his question, the blonde man glanced over at Margaret. Sheepishly, he cleared his throat, and pursed his lips. "Uh, do you think…you could…" He started, gesturing away from the room.
Realizing what it was he wanted, Margaret looked suddenly surprised. "O-oh! Sure, I'll just, uh, be in the other room." She gestured to a bedroom further back in the house and awkwardly dismissed herself from the living room, closing the door behind her so she couldn't hear them in case it would make him uncomfortable.
"Symptoms?" Law asked again, just a little relieved the woman wouldn't be breathing down his neck the whole time. Now he could just focus on figuring out what was wrong with the kid without any modern medical equipment. Back to the basics it was.
"Right…well, it's difficult to walk much at all. I'm constantly in pain. Um…sometimes I just feel stiff, you know? If that makes sense."
Law nodded in understanding, gesturing for him to sit up as straight as he could. "Do you mind?" He asked, indicating Zach's shirt, all the while bringing the stethoscope to his ears.
"No, it's fine. Go ahead." He nodded, looking away awkwardly. "So…you're like a real doctor…right?"
"Yes, I am. I need you to breathe deeply." Law instructed, lifting the bottom of Zach's shirt and placing the cold metal of the scope close to his lungs. He listened for several seconds, testing various spots on his chest for the sound of his breathing. "Now shallow breaths."
Zach did ad he was told, and finally Law went to take a step back, lifting his shirt again so he could retrieve the stethoscope, but he paused upon seeing the young man's chest. It was difficult to see in the darkness of the house, the only light coming from the cracks in between the barricaded windows, but the dark bruises weren't exactly easy to miss.
"How did you get these bruises?" He questioned, searching the rest of his skin for similar signs.
"Ah, they sometimes just appear. If I move wrong, there'll be this sharp pain, and a bruise will form soon after. I'm not quite sure how…"
Remaining silent, Law began to have an inkling as to what was wrong, but he didn't want to make any early assumptions without more evidence. Returning to his bag, he pulled out a flashlight that Margaret had allowed him to take. She'd warned him not to use it for very long, conserving the battery if at all possible, but he only needed it for a moment anyways.
"I'm going to shine this light in your eyes. Try to keep them open." He explained, returning to Zach's side. The young man nodded, and Law gently held open the boy's eyes. Clicking the flashlight on, he inspected his eyes, noticing that his pupils dilated to a normal degree. Though that wasn't what he was checking on in the first place. Ah, yes it appeared that the sclera of his eyes were tinted slightly blue. He checked the other eye just to be sure, but the result was the same.
Turning off the flashlight, he resisted the urge to sigh heavily. His theory was almost entirely solidified. Still, he wanted to be 100 percent sure. After all, the boy's life was literally hanging in the balance. Zach cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly.
"Did Margaret ask you to do all of this?" He asked quietly. Intrigued, Law nodded his affirmation, and Zach sighed in frustration. "When I told her I would go with her if he brought a doctor, I didn't really mean it you know."
"Why not?"
"…" For a long time, he didn't answer. "Even if there's something you can do to help me…I'm not sure if I even want to be helped." He finally said with a slow shake of his head. His expression shifted into something resigned and exhausted and just…done with the world he was in. Depression was a common thing among the survivors in this world, and it had definitely hit Zach hard. Not that Law really blamed him, but wallowing in his sorrow wasn't the way to live.
"Not that I'm condoning the idea," Law started, carefully choosing his words, "but if that were the case, wouldn't taking your own life be the answer?"
"I've thought about it. Hell, I've even semi- tried it. But…I'm too scared to do it." His eyes looked up at Law pleadingly, as if willing him to understand how he was feeling. "Even when I tried starving myself, the hunger pushed me to eat. I…couldn't do it."
"Then perhaps you don't actually want to die." He concluded clinically. "Subconsciously, you're hoping help will come."
"Yeah…maybe…but I didn't think Margaret would actually take me seriously. I don't know why she's holding out all this hope that I'll get better."
"She's not one to give up on other people, is she?" He mused aloud, stepped away from Zach and going to put away his equipment. He probably wouldn't be needing any other items anyways.
"Which is why I couldn't really tell her to stop. She would just refuse to give up." Zach admitted with a tiny smile. "I appreciate all the effort and care, but she needs to worry about herself and her own people. Not some dying kid she barely knows."
"…" Not seeing quite how to respond to that, considering he agreed with Zach and thought this whole trip was mostly a waste of resources and time. However, you couldn't really tell a patient that, regardless of how hopeless or frustrating the situation seemed. Without saying anything at all, Law stood and stepped back.
"Can you stand?" He implored, skipping over the previous conversation and trooping on in his examination.
Zach suddenly looked worried. "Stand? You want me to stand?"
"Yes. Will it be too painful?"
"Y-yeah. I haven't really been able to walk for the past few days…The leg pain has just been too much to bear."
"That's fine. I'll just need you to extend your legs straight out then. Will that be alright?"
"Sure…"
So saying, Zach braced himself as much as he could on the arms of the chair he sat in, lifting his feet as far off the floor as he could manage. It was surprisingly low for how strong the young man should have been, but his condition was slowly degrading at his strength. Law supported the back of his legs the rest of the way, making sure not to cause unnecessary discomfort or pain. Once he'd extended his legs as far out as they could go, Law held them in place so they wouldn't fall back, inspecting his legs critically.
His limbs bowed out just the slightest bit, to the point where you wouldn't notice outright unless you were actually looking for them. But still, that slight bow of the bones was enough to cement his suspicions in his mind.
"Thank you." He said, allowing Zach to lower his legs back in a comfortable position.
"So…do you know what's wrong with me?" Zach eventually asked, watching as Law returned to his pack and pull something out. It was a bottle of medication, but he couldn't quite tell what it was.
"I think so, but I'd like to do a few more tests beforehand. They may be a bit painful, so I'll give you this painkiller before we do anything else." So saying, Law stood, handing him two white pills and a water bottle. "It's very potent, but it'll still take a few minutes to take affect."
"Alright." Zach agreed, taking the offered pills and downing them with a sip of water. Handing the bottle back to Law, Zach settled in his chair and waited for the painkiller to take effect.
"I'll be right back, I'm going to speak to Margaret for a moment. Let me know when you think the medication has fully set in." Law instructed, putting the bottle of medication back in the bag and went to the bedroom where Margaret was waiting.
Law entered the room and closed the door behind him, spotting the black-haired woman eyeing the picture frames hanging on the wall. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she gave him a little smile when he approached.
"Zach's a good kid, yeah? We found him while out scavenging one day, he even gave us some of his cans before we left." She recalled, eyes drifting as she recalled that day. Then, her gaze returned to his and she looked hopeful. "Did you finish the examination?"
"Yes." Law admitted, leaning against the wall and crossing his own arms to match her posture. "Zach has Brittle Bone Disease."
"Brittle Bone…so something like osteoporosis, right?" She looked a bit more worried, but he could still see that infernal hope in her eyes. Hope that it wasn't as bad as reality would make it seem.
"Similar, but much worse." Law corrected, shaking his head. "His case in particular is more severe than what you would normally find in someone his age, no doubt due to the poor nutrition and lack of essential vitamins."
"Well, what can we do to-"
"Nothing, Margaret." He cut off, finally staring into her face unguarded. Knowing the type of person she was, he had to make her understand this. "There's nothing I can do for him."
"But…there's gotta be something…" She started, realizing just how serious Law's gaze was, just how dire the situation was. "You were a surgeon, right? There's gotta be surgery to help fix it…"
"Sure, there is. Surgery that requires metal stints and fixtures, not to mention anesthesia, extra supplies of his blood type, and a sterile environment. In the normal world, I would have been able to do something, but now?" Law shrugged with a shake of his head. "The most I could do it give him calcium and magnesium supplements to slow the rate of the disease, neither of which we have in our inventory."
"I…" She choked back a rather loud sob, no doubt to try preventing Zach from hearing her distress, lest he wonder what was going on. Her eyes flicked back and forth in the empty space between them, searching for some answer to her problem. They snapped up to meet his eyes again. "Can I at least bring him back to the camp to let him live the rest of his life in comfort? Or at least in the presence of other people?"
Frustrated that Margaret was still fighting him on this, Law pushed away from the wall and rubbed at his forehead. "Moving him would cause multitudes of fractures in his bones, all over his body. He's managed the pain up to this point because of his lack of mobility, but a day's journey would most certainly, literally, break every bone in his body."
Margaret exhaled loudly, covering her face with her hands as the realization that there was nothing they could do for Zach truly hit her. Law allowed her the moment of grief, before extending his hand. "Give me your knife."
"W-what?" She sniffled, eyes red-rimmed from tears when she looked up at him. He sighed, not entirely happy that he had to do this, but he knew Margaret was in no shape to take the necessary steps.
"I've given Zach a heavy sleep medication, so he won't feel anything. I need your knife." He reiterated.
She backed away a step, but Law only followed after, fed up with her games and indecisiveness. He grabbed her wrist and pushed her into the closest wall, earning a gasp from her.
Grabbing her knife out of her belt with his free hand, he put his face inches from hers. "I get you can't do it yourself, but you can't continue to run away from reality. People die, Margaret. You can't save everyone. That's the way things work now. You're supposed to be a leader, so get your shit together and start acting like one."
With that, he pushed away from the emotionally upset Margaret and left her alone in the bedroom, taking her knife with him as he approached the sleeping Zach in the other room. He made it quick, taking no pleasure in killing the young man whatsoever. It was as humane as Law could make it. At least Zach no longer had to live with the pain of his weakened body. At least he didn't have to deal with the world as it was now.
The sky was beginning to darken by the time Law and Margaret found their shelter for that night. It had only taken about an hour to meet with Zach, but Margaret had insisted they bury the young man properly. Of course, this meant having to find shovels nearby, then dig the grave. It took and hour or two to do all of that, by which time it was getting close to evening. Margaret felt the need to say a few words for Zach, as a way of a funeral, and Law gave her some space afterwards.
After some time had passed, he gently pressed that they move on and find a place to stay for the night. Traveling through the night would have been too dangerous, so they had to find somewhere nearby to hole up until morning. They picked one of the houses further down the road, or rather, Law had picked it. Margaret was pretty much number after what happened that afternoon, leaving Law to pick up the slack and make all the decisions.
They cleared out the house and barricaded the door as best they could. A few zombies banged at the windows of the front, but there wasn't much threat besides that, so they felt relatively safe. Margaret went to sit on the couch, while Law found whatever he could to reinforce the windows so they wouldn't break during the night.
Once all the precautions were made, Law returned to the living room, where Margaret sat staring into space, the tear tracks still evident on her cheeks. Law sighed, setting down his pack and sitting beside her silently.
He couldn't understand why she was so upset over losing this kid, but knew at the same time that any loss of life was devastating to those they knew, even those they barely knew. And seeing as Margaret felt she'd taken enough lives as it were, losing another was probably doubly as scarring.
For several minutes, both Law and Margaret simply sat there in silence, staring out into the empty living room lost in their own thoughts. Not even the groaning zombies outside the front door were enough to draw them away. Their consciouses weighed heavily against them, each for their own different reasons, but heavy with regret all the same.
Finally, Law looked around the place with a new sense of location, suddenly realizing they were not back at the camp, and that they were indeed still miles away from where the rest of their people were. Law stood stiffly, brushing off his shirt of any dust or wrinkles. "You should get some rest." He told her, knowing that she probably wouldn't be getting any sleep but that she probably should try.
She didn't respond, just continued looking empty and far away. Shrugging, Law turned to go into the kitchen and see if there were any supplies they could utilize. He doubted either of the were really up to eating, so he didn't bother suggesting it.
His search through the drawers gathered nothing in terms of food or water, and the living room held similar success. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that Margaret's people had already ransacked these houses, considering that's how they stumbled upon Zach in the first place, but it was worth a look either way. Maybe there were things they'd missed the first time around.
His search lead him upstairs to the bedroom, and Law was looking through the nightstand beside the bed when he felt a presence behind him. Tense, he turned and pushed that person into the wall, reaching for Margaret's knife that he hadn't yet returned, only to stop when he saw said woman's tearful face staring wide-eyed back at him.
"Law…" She whimpered, the clarity having returned to her eyes.
He eased up the pressure of pushing her into the wall, moving to take a step back out of her space, but she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. She leaned forward to kiss him but he pushed her back by the throat, stopping her advance. She whined out in annoyance, though it sounded more like a sob than anything else.
"What the hell do you want?" He growled, refusing to get anything but a straight answer from her. She struggled to get out of his grasp but his strength was much greater than hers and he wasn't about to just let her off easy.
"I want you, Law. Please, I just want you." Came her breathy whisper, both laden with want and sorrow. She tried reaching for him again, but he only moved his hand from her throat to her wrists, pinning them to the wall on either side of her head.
"You're distraught. You're not yourself." He tried explaining to her calmly, but she adamantly shook her head.
"I've wanted you ever since you came to the camp. But today made me realize how much I need you. I can't do this without you, Law. Please." Her face came closer, seeking out his lips with hers, but he shied away just far enough so she couldn't reach.
"Margaret, stop."
"No! I just want to forget for awhile." She shouted out in frustration and anger and sadness. Fresh tears started streaming down her face and down her neck. When she spoke her voice cracked with her sobs. "I don't want to remember that I'm supposed to be some leader, that all these lives are hanging on my head! I just want to forget everything…It's like I don't feel anything anymore, or I feel too much. I don't know which is worse."
Law said nothing, just stared into her eyes blankly. She was mad, surely she was. He knew that her stares back at the camp for the past few weeks had something to do with this, but not it was just confirmed for him.
"I can't give you what you're looking for."
"If you think I'm trying to hook up with you long term or something, I'm not." She defended angrily, glaring at him through the tears. Her desperation hadn't waned, but the sadness had quickly melted into something much more explosive. "I just want to feel something again, like I'm in control. I hate feeling all this regret, all this blame hanging over me, so for god's sake just fuck me already!"
She shouted the last part at him in little more than a snarl, and he narrowed his eyes minutely. Her little outburst left him slightly speechless, but now he understood what it was she really wanted.
She wanted to forget? Fine, so be it.
Letting his pent up frustrations out as well, Law growled at the back of his throat as he leaned into her neck, biting her skin with more force than perhaps he'd intended. Margaret gasped aloud, a bit surprised that he'd initiated. Perhaps she hadn't expected him to agree, but there was only so much a person could take before they reached their limit, and Law had started feeling all that stress begin to wear at him the past few months.
He licked at his mark on her neck to ease the sting, releasing her wrists to tug at her shirt. Margaret allowed him to pull the garment over her head, revealing her creme colored bra that covered her breasts. As soon as she was free from her top, her hands sought out the hem of his own, tugging up to indicate she wanted it off as well.
Her lips sought his out again, but he avoided her kiss, instead returning to the skin at her collarbone, sucking and licking his way to her shoulder. Her gasps and whimpers of pleasure filled his ears, but they did little to excite him. After all, this was nothing to him but a stress relief, and if she found anything more to it than that, it was her own fault. He'd warned her, and he didn't want to give her any ideas by returning her kiss properly.
Law would pleasure her body, but he refused to pleasure her heart.
Fed up with the awkward and slightly uncomfortable position of the wall, Law picked her up from under her thighs and carried her to the bed, tossing her on the comforter without care. Shirking off his shirt and tossing it somewhere behind him, he joined her in the bed, intent on getting rid of this tension that filled his body.
ns 15.158.61.50da2
