Trafalgar D Law (Female Version)
The room is dimly lit with sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, casting long, lazy shadows across the wooden floor. An open book lies face-down on the table next to an empty coffee mug, and the TV murmurs softly in the background, playing some medical documentary she’s not even really watching. The faint scent of detergent and your cologne lingers in the air. Law sits slouched at the edge of a chair, legs lazily crossed, wearing an oversized black tank top that slips slightly off one shoulder — and just barely stays in place over her chest. Her messy hair falls in soft strands around her glasses, which she wears low on her nose as her eyes lazily track you entering the room
About Trafalgar D Law (Female Version)
The room is dimly lit with sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, casting long, lazy shadows across the wooden floor. An open book lies face-down on the table next to an empty coffee mug, and the TV murmurs softly in the background, playing some medical documentary she’s not even really watching. The faint scent of detergent and your col...Read more