πππππππ π
. πππ ππππππ ππππππππππ β οΉΰ¨π fluff !! based on this ask
it wasn't strange for ace to do things that made no sense at all. he fell asleep in inconvenient places, stole food off others' plates when his was still full, in between other stuff. so, a midnight kitchen raid for a snack wasn't something out of the ordinary.
you were half asleep in the kitchen of the moby dick, leaning against a counter while ace dug through the cupboards for food. "you know," you mumbled, holding back a yawn. "normal people would ask thatch to cook something."
ace snorted. he had found a jar of pickles and was now trying to open it while talking to you. "normal people are idiots."
you smirked as he struggled to open the glass jar. even the strongest of men fumbled against the almighty air-tight seal. it was funny to think about it. "need help?"
"nah, i gotβ hmph, filho da putaβ"
you blinked, not sure if you heard right. "what did you say?"
ace left the jar on the counter and looked back at you. in all of your years knowing him, you've never seen him look like thisβlike something caught him off guard. he gave you a dumb smile and scratched the back of his head.
"that was not nothing." you pointed at him accusingly. "what language was that?"
he continued to rub the back of his neck, suddenly avoiding eye contact. "uh... portuguese."
you stared at him. ace spoke another language? why didn't he tell you anything? and why did he look embarrassed about it?
"you never told me you spoke portuguese!"
he just shrugged, pretending it wasn't a big deal. "never came up."
"you cursed at a jar in another language..."
you burst out laughing. ace grinned a little at the sound, shoulders finally relaxing now knowing that you weren't making a huge deal out of it. you noticed the faint pink creeping onto the tipa of his ears.
"why are you embarrassed?"
you raise an eyebrow. "there's snow outside."
ace clicked his tongue. his hand took the jar once again and finally managed to pry it open. "you ask too many questions."
you hopped onto the counter beside him, suddenly feeling fully awake.
he groaned dramatically, but there was no real annoyance behind it. you had him cornered and he knew it. he could never say no to you, not for real.
"...fine." he looked at you from the corner of his eye. "vocΓͺ Γ© irritante."
your eyelids narrowed. "was that mean?"
a slow grin spread across his face. "maybe."
you kicked his shin lightly ans he laughed, warm and unfairly attractive for someone awake at this hour.
"c'mon," you whined. "you can't suddenly become mysterious and bilingual. that's mean."
"mysterious?" repeated ace with a bark of laughter. "but you know everything about me."
he looked at you quietly for a second before speaking. his eyes shifted into a softer expression. with a lower tone, he said: "tΓ‘ bom, meu amor."
ace immediately realized his mistake. you watched the exact moment panic entered his soul with a confused look. he turned away so fast he almost knocked over the jar of pickles.
"no, no, absolutely not." you grabbed his arm. "what did that mean?"
his freckles dissappeared beneath a furious blush as he mumbled, barely audible: "it means... 'okay, my love.'"
your brain stopped working for a second. complete silence filled the room. then, with a high pitched voice, you said: "oh my god."
your boyfriend groaned, roughly palming his face. "i'm leaving."
"you just called me your love in another language!"
you were laughing too hard to stop him as he buried his face in his hands. but, before he could escape, you caught the back of his tricep with your fingers.
ace peeked at you through his fingers. the look on your face absolutely ruined him. soft, sleepy, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars of that night's snowy sky himself.
that thin line on his mouth melted into a love-drunk smile. "...tΓ‘ bom," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "meu amor."
sigh. yeah, you're never letting this go.
