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Summary
“Seriously, say something. Otherwise I’ll be forced to assume you’re brain dead and take your Poison Pink figurine for my collection.”
“Screw you,” Drake snaps, his fanboy hindbrain responding faster than his sluggish frontal lobe. “You’re not taking my—”
Sora snickers, and the words catch in Drake’s throat. Then, he realizes something very terrible:
The person talking to him is not Sora: Warrior of the Sea.
This is Law, cosplaying as Sora. They’re in the middle of an event hall at Sora Forever Con.
Drake has a boner in the middle of an event hall at Sora Forever Con, and if his will to live didn’t just take a nose-dive into the gutter it’s absolutely going to crash land there the second Law notices it. Or: Drake watches Law kick someone's ass in Sora cosplay and discovers something about himself. Rosinante is tired of these damn kids.
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