all is the world. and one is me!

You're angelic. The low light in the kitchen paired with the occasional shine of moonlight flooding in through the window illuminates you beautifully. The light falls across your face, making your hair glow. It surrounds your head like a halo, lighting you up in a way Sanji can only describe as utterly mesmerising.

Your hums of interest and continuous questions are only making it that much more difficult for him to hold his tongue this evening.

His feelings are aching to burst out. The moment he had admitted it himself all those months ago it was like the flood gates had opened. You were all he could think about.

So he'd started planning, obsessing over the perfect time to tell you. He's been mulling it over in his head for weeks at this point, falling over his feet trying to spend time with you, giving you endless compliments and always watching your face when he served each meal—desperate for the approval that only came when that delighted grin split across your face.

Should it be casual or serious? On an island when you're laughing and giddy with adventure or after dinner when you've offered to help him tidy up?

(Although he hopes you stay with him because you feel the same as him, the rational part of his brain tells him not to overthink it, that you only join him because you want to make his evening chores easier, like you would with any member of the crew.)

Turns out his insescent obsession with telling you how much he adored you was all for nothing.

"It tasted amazing!" You smile, "I'm serious. The lemon gave it just enough tang an—"

"I'm in love with you."

Sanji blanches. A river of crimson begins to fall from his nose and you jump up hastily, running to grab a cloth before Sanji even has the chance to move.

You hands move quickly but your mind doesn't follow suit. You fill a bowl with warm water, testing the temperature with your fingertip and bringing it to your lips to make sure it's not too hot. Too busy trying to stop the onslaught of red falling from Sanji's face, you fail to see his eyes following your fingers, darkening ever so slightly when your lips wrap around them.

You don't even realise the weight of the words that had caused the nosebleed to begin with.

But Sanji is well aware of what he said.

Although it wasn't the time, nor the place that he had wanted to tell you for the first time, it didn't make it any less true.

He is in love with you.

And all he can do now is stand in front of you, as still and unmoving as a statue. His feet are rooted to the floor, the thought of fleeing had crossed his mind briefly but the second your hand came to rest on his arm it was like a bolt of lightning struck him right through the heart.

If anything, your hands on him had made the nosebleed worse.

But it's beginning to slow now, gently you dab the last drop of red from his chin. With a smile you step back, dropping the cloth into the bowl of water to soak.

Sanji feels as though his heart is about to beat out of his chest. His soul is on fire, beads of sweat fall across the back of his neck as he stands waiting for your reply. Gingerly he lifts a hand to your face, praying that you won't move away.

Your eyes widen, but you lean into his touch anyway. It's featherlight on your skin, gentle and uncertain in ways you wouldn't expect from him.

The shock of his hand on your face soon startles your brain into action.

"Wait," you whisper, voice low as if that could hide the wobble of nerves in your throat, "what was that about? Are yo—"

Now it's your turn to blanch. The last few minutes run through your head and just as suddenly as Sanji's nose had started to bleed you feel your skin begin to prickle with warmth.

"Sanji…" You pause, eyes searching for a sign that he regrets what he said, that he wishes he could take it back, that he didnt mean it.

But of course, you find none.

His hands find their way to your waist, the three squeezes he gives you tell you he's serious. His touch is firm, his gaze is unwavering.

You kiss him without thinking. Slinking your arms around his neck you pull him close—so close that you can feel the heat from his skin scorching you. Sanji doesn't waste a second before he's kissing you back, teeth clashing messily as you both smile into the kiss.

There's so much tenderness in how you touch eachother, his shaky hand comes to rest on your cheek again and you find yourself having to blink back tears. You grip his shirt tightly, grounding yourself in his warmth.

When you pull away it is with great reluctance, the fall of your own confession sitting heavily on your tongue. But Sanji chases you as you move, his eyes stay glued to your lips, desperate to kiss you one last time—as if you aren't as addicted to him as he is to you.

"Sanji…" You murmur against his lips, repeating his name in the way only you seem capable of. So full of warmth and affection that it has him wishing to hear it fall from your lips over and over until it barely resembles a word anymore.

Your cheeks are aflame at the way he seems so unwilling to let you go, his hand tightens on your waist at the first sign of you pulling away. With a smile you press a hand to his chest, reluctantly pushing him away as you both take a heavy breath.

The silence that sits between you is weighted, you can feel it on your shoulders, watching as his expression morphs from playful to serious.

"I'm sorry for taking you by surprise, I hadn't meant to spill those words so unceremoniously but… seeing you here, hearing your voice under the sweet moonlight, I couldn't help myself." He pauses, taking your hands in his. "There's no one like you in any corner of the world. Your laughter is infectious, I crave your presence every day, even on the days I'm lucky enough to see you." He sighs, as if readying himself for the words that come next. "I love you. I'm in love with you. And I have been for a long, long time. Your smile, your bravery, your beauty, your talent for recognising when I've pushed myself too far... I would never assume myself to be someone who was worthy of your love, but if you would allow me, I'd love nothing more than a chance to prove my devotion to you."

When he finishes speaking Sanji looks away from you, there's a shimmer running down his cheeks that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. You run your thumb across his cheekbone, sweeping the tear away and directing his focus back towards you with a gently pull.

You smile, your own eyes beginning to brim with tears. "You have nothing to prove to me," is all you say.

And then you're pressing your lips to his again. Pushing against his chest, hands holding him firmly, like he'll disappear if you hold him any looser. Sanji's caught off guard by your sudden ferocity, but he moves with you like the two of you have done this hundreds of times. He follows your lead, letting you push against him, his arms slink around your body and he links one wrist over the other to keep you steady.

His breath is stolen from his lungs when he feels your tongue swipe across his lower lip. A groan escapes his throat and immediately his face heats up.

When you pull away Sanji's face is bright red. You place a sweet kiss to his cheek and then bury your face against his chest. He's warm.

"You..." You sigh, your voice muffled slightly by Sanji's chest.

Your mind runs wild as you lift your head, all those things you had brushed off as nothing more than Sanji's friendly affection—the smiles, the way he never failed to notice when you wore something new and the compliments that came with that. Even the fact that your favourite foods seemed to find their way onto the menu more often than everyone else's... you had convinced yourself that there was nothing to see, that he cared for you the same as he did for Usopp, Nami, Robin.

If you had been this blind to his feelings, how could he have seen yours so clearly?

When you lock eyes with Sanji you're unable to stop a smile from splitting across your face. He matches you with little hesitation, but you can sense that something is keeping him reserved—as reserved as a man who just confessed his love to someone and then had them fall onto his lips can be, anyway.

Oh.

Of course.

You realise with a start what is keeping Sanji so contained.

So, even though your hands are shaking wildly. Even though you've kissed him more times in the last 5 minutes than you ever thought you'd get the opportunity to. Even though you're currently holding his shirt so tightly you think you might tear it soon if you're not careful. You swallow thickly, heart hammering hard against your chest.

And you say the words you know he's waiting to hear.

"I love you, too."

The effect is immediate. Suddenly Sanji's arms tighten around your waist and you find yourself being swept off your feet. You laugh despite your surprise, falling against his chest as you spin in the air. His laughter soon joins yours and the two of you fall into a breathless song of joy.

There's relief on his face when he places you back to the ground. An arm stays on your waist and his other moves to your face, pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"You had me worried there, angel." He says, eyes sparkling.

You raise your eyebrows, amused at his words. "Oh, really? The kissing didn't give anything away?"

"I wouldn't dare to be so presumptuous..." He smirks when he speaks, the flicker of hesitation that once hid behind his eyes is now gone, replaced with something much softer.

You shove your shoulder into his chest, there's no real malice behind it but Sanji gasps dramatically anyway, feigning hurt with a hand to his forehead. You shift your weight, leaning against his body and rolling your eyes as you drag his focus back towards you with a finger to his chin.

He gulps, suddenly nervous under your intense gaze. You stare at him for a few long seconds, watching the way his eyes follow yours and the way he wets his lips when your eyes linger on his neck.

"Oh, I'm sure," you smile, wicked heat behind your eyes despite the harsh way your heart continues to thud against your chest.

A loud thump causes you both to jump apart in surprise. Turning your head you find the door to the kitchen swinging open, no sign of anyone to be found.

It must not have shut properly after you had come through it earlier in search of Sanji.

With a sigh of relief you turn your head back towards Sanji, to your surprise he's already looking at you. His head is tilted, but the look of surprise on his face is different than yours. You question him with a raise of your eyebrow.

"You're so beautiful," he sighs, falling into you with such speed that you rock slightly with the impact. His head burrows its way between your shoulder and your neck and you hear him take another sigh, his breath warming your skin and sending a shiver across your arms.

You smile, bringing a hand to the back of his head. He slumps even further into your body at the contact, arms tightening around your waist and burying himself impossibly closer.

The weight of his obsession and overthinking has finally been lifted from his shoulders. The sleepless nights that he has spent thinking about how to tell you of his feelings are soon to be a distant memory.

There's nothing more he could wish for in this moment that what you're already giving him.

So he doesn't move. He revels in the freedom of knowing you feel as he does.

He breathes you in, cherishing the newness of your hands on his body and he lets his thoughts swirl idly with ideas of dates and the perfect way to court you.

His hands crowd your waist, so large against your frame, and he wraps an arm tight around your body as you fidget.

"I wouldn't have moved you onto my lap if I didn't want you here, okay?" His voice is low. His breath fans your ear, sending shivers across your neck and down your spine.

You still. With a slow nod you melt into him, letting his arms draw you closer, a wave of relaxation washing over you as his thumb begins to rub soft circles on your hip bone, just below the hem of your shirt.

You crane your neck over your shoulder when you hear him exhale shakily and you raise your eyebrow in question. Red flecks of embarrassment litter his cheeks, lighting him up the most adorable shade of rouge.

Oh.

You smile, running your tongue along your teeth as you turn back around. Sam's laptop sits in front of you, endless numbers of tabs are open on the browser and you can see his scribbled notes littering the table behind the screen.

Whatever the issue you're dealing with is, it won't be solved tonight, you're certain of it.

"Time to take a break, baby?" You whisper, pulling Sam's hand into yours and pressing a soft kiss to his palm.

He hums affirmatively, leaning around you and shutting his laptop with a flick of his wrist. The weariness from the hours he's spent staring at his screen are already catching up with him, his eyes ache and there's a low pain in the back of his head that he knows is going to turn into a ruthless headache in the next hour or so.

With a sigh he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, shifting you further back into his lap.

If you feel him shudder beneath you you're polite enough not to mention it—or perhaps you're just biding your time, waiting to tease him when he least expects it.

He breathes in the smell of your shampoo, once, twice, and lets it wash over him steadily. You feel his body start relaxing almost immediately and he buries his head in your hair for a moment, enjoying the smell of you—the smell of home—before drawing back and leaning his head over the back of the chair.

You don't lean back with him, too afraid of hurting him or making him uncomfortable, but it doesn't take more than a few seconds for Sam to miss your body's warmth.

He shifts abruptly, sitting bolt upright and hoisting an arm beneath your knees. He breathes out a whisper of "ready?" and then he's standing, walking towards the bed and plopping you down onto the well worn motel mattress.

You land with a grunt, although he was careful not to drop you without bending down first. You both learnt that lesson the hard way.

The first time he'd dropped you from standing height you'd practically bounced off the bed, and instead of spending time wrapped in each others arms you'd been forced to play doctor and nurse—and not in the fun way.

He's quick to follow you, sliding off his flannel and throwing it across the end of the bed before kneeling next to you on the mattress. From this angle he looks like a giant, towering over you at a ridiculous height. You think this must be what people see when they look at him, a tall, serious and intimidating hunter.

But when that smile splits across his face, the one that makes his eyes shine, the facade is broken. He's your Sam again—soft, warm, gentle.

You open your arms wide but he just shakes his head lightly, falling into the space behind you instead. He's quick to wrap his arm around your waist, before carefully manoeuvring you until you're flush against his front. You lift your head before he has the chance to ask and he slips an arm beneath your neck, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

You intertwine your fingers through his and begin to play with them idly. A gentle smile falls across your face and your eyes start to flutter closed before you even have the chance to speak.

You hadn't planned to fall asleep. You'd wanted to relish in the alone time, it's not often the two of you are able to be alone like this—uninterrupted and relatively carefree.

But Sam's touch is like nothing else. The feeling of him being wrapped totally and completely around you is akin to being hugged by sunlight. Warmth radiates off of him, seeping into your skin and flowing down to the darkest depths.

A broad smile bloomed across your lips as you recalled the time you brought your newfound favorite snack to sparring practice for him to try. "Don't pretend you don't like them."

"If you would like to help, you may set the table." He pretended to ignore your comment, but there was no denying the amount of times you split the sweet sandwich in half to share.

Rather than prod him further, you scoured his kitchen for dishes and organized them carefully at the table in the next room while Byakuya fired up the stove, eventually filling the space with a warm, savory aroma. With the table set for two, you hopped up onto the cool stone of his kitchen counter, your feet dangling playfully as you waited. Byakuya stepped away from the stove and stopped when he saw you, haphazardly sat like you owned the place.

"This is serious business," he said, mildly exasperated.

"You're always doing serious business." You leaned back on your hands in challenge of the order he kept over his life.

A shimmer in his eye was the only detail to give up his facade of annoyance before he stepped closer, encroaching on your space as he braced his hand on the cabinet above you. Your face grew warm as his hips slotted between your knees and his gaze descended upon you. You betrayed yourself by looking at his lips.

He opened his mouth, drawing you in only a little closer. "Watch your head," he said bluntly.

Your mind screeched to a halt as you processed his words. A hot shade of red crawled up your neck as you leaned forward, allowing Byakuya to open the cabinet behind you. Any gratitude that Byakuya couldn't see your face washed away as his scent flooded your senses - lavishly clean with dizzying notes of sakura, green tea, and something wholly him.

Before you could take another breath, Byakuya vanished with his newfound ingredient and returned to his cooking. You stared daggers into his back as he worked over the flame, seemingly oblivious to the obvious effect he had on you.

Eventually your pout shifted to an expression of wonder as you watched him carefully tend to your meal. Infrequently were Byakuya's hands fully visible, often covered across the back and around his wrists with bracers. They seemed steadier, stronger than those of the boy you grew up with. The dark sleeves of his Shihakusho were rolled up and your eyes caught on the slight ripple of his forearms as he moved.

"Would you like to taste it?" Byakuya's words seemed in harmony with the gentle sizzle of the pan, so much that you didn't register the question at first.

"Hmm?" Your stomach growled as Byakuya scooped a small heap of sauteed vegetables onto a spoon, holding it out to you. Mindlessly, you opened your mouth to receive it.

Before Byakuya could think better of it, he gently fed you the carefully prepared bite. Your lips closed around the spoon before he slid it away, your eyes fluttering closed as the flavor hit your tongue. He stood motionless as you savored it, whether in awe of you or blindsided by his actions, he couldn't say.

"That," you said hungrily as you opened your eyes, "is delicious."

Byakuya blinked, turning back to the stove to hide the blooming flush on his face. "Good. It's almost ready."