vivi’s corner

The patter of the rain against the ship's windows played through your head as you were cleaning up the med-bay. A plethora of things were in your arms: bandages, suture kits, needles, syringes, and more. They all needed to be checked, organized, and put away.

The faint music you had playing in the background started to play over the rain noise in your head. Suddenly, you found yourself humming to the tune as you checked the lot numbers of certain equipment, making sure it was all from the proper batch.

Your job was meticulous. But you liked it. Loved it, actually. It was worth taking care of people at their lowest or when they just needed someone to rely on. You were a caregiver at heart.

Still humming, you continued to organize equipment, the rustling of plastic hitting your ears. You got lost in the moment, like you were running on autopilot. It happened frequently.

SCREECH.

Suddenly, the door was being slung open, the metal scraping against the floor with a loud ring. You jumped, turning around to see a familiar figure.

Kid.

Except there was blood all over the floor.

Dripping from his arm.

"Oh my g—" You started, but realized you had to act quickly.

"What the hell happened?" you asked frantically, grabbing the closest towel and speeding over to him.

"Stupid fucking workshop," he said, a roughness in his voice. "Can you fix this shit?" he asked, holding his arm out to you.

"Yeah—yeah, just c'mon..." you said.

You looked down to see nothing but a large gash, damn near cutting into his muscle. Blood was consistently flowing out. You quickly wrapped the towel around his arm as tightly as you could, leading him over to one of the more comfortable beds in the bay.

Sitting him slightly at an angle, you propped his arm up on a separate surface. You watched his head sling back, his face scrunching up in pain, although he was trying to put on the whole tough-guy act.

Quickly, you grabbed a tourniquet, wrapping it around his arm and stopping the bleeding. Kid winced at your actions.

"This might take a while to get you fixed up," you said, starting to grab everything you needed to fix this damned mess.

"Whatever you gotta do, just fix the shit," he managed to rumble out, no real bite in his words. There was never any real bite in his words toward you. You simply hummed in acknowledgment, looking back at him once more.

God, he looks good like that...

No! What's wrong with you? Take care of him, dammit.

You shook your head at yourself slightly and grabbed some pain pills, quickly bringing them over to him. You quickly realized he couldn't take them himself. He didn't have his prosthetic arm on, and his other one was displayed on a med table.

Great.

You swallowed hard.

"Here, take these for me..." Your tone was softer than usual. You couldn't help it. Watching as he tilted his head up in the slightest, the visible knot between his brows showing the pain he refused to admit he was in, you put the small cup of pills up to his mouth, tilting it forward and letting them make their way in.

You then brought a small cup of water to his lips, looking at him for just a second before realizing he had been staring directly at you this entire time. You started to push the cup forward slightly, letting him get some water. You looked back up at him, his eyes practically piercing into yours.

Damn.

Okay.

After a second too long of staring, you took the water away, once again shaking your head slightly at whatever that was.

"Good?" you simply asked.

You got a grunt in return, his head thrown back again.

"That should help," you said, grabbing the pile of supplies you had gotten out and bringing them over to your now-established workstation.

Another grunt in response.

"I need surgery or somethin'? What's all this shit for?" he asked, eyes widening slightly at everything you brought over. He was being a smartass, though.

"Just stitches, asshole," you replied, causing a small laugh to come from him.

His laugh caused a smile to appear on your face. You sat down, set everything up, and finally started to fix this mess. You pulled out two syringes: a local anesthetic and another shot.

"I'm gonna give you these. One numbs it, one makes sure you're not gonna get an infection or anything, yeah?" you said, talking him through the steps you were taking.

You got a small "yeah" in response.

"One... two... three... deep breath... and you're done," you said for both shots, throwing them into the nearest biohazard bin. You started to quietly clean his arm up, watching his face finally begin to unscrunch and his muscles relax.

"Meds helping you at all?" you asked while shoving gauze into the gash across his arm.

"Yeah," he grunted out, leaning fully back and getting comfortable in the bed, realizing he was going to be here for a while.

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting moments of silence go by as you worked on his arm. Cleaning his arm, you tried your absolute best not to butcher this any further. Thinking about it, you finally decided to ask.

"How'd this happen?" you asked, not looking at him, continuing to work on his arm.

He was silent for a moment, but then he spoke up.

"I was working on something," he said, the usual roughness in his voice fading.

"Something?" you asked.

"Shit for my arm," he said, lifting his amputated arm slightly before putting it back down. He was always working on that damn thing.

"And?" you asked.

He looked over at you, and you looked up at the same time.

"And I slid past the stupid piece of shit without paying attention," he said as he stared at you a little too long before turning his head the other way.

You hummed in acknowledgment and started to change your gloves, throwing all the dirty cleaning supplies away.

"We all have our accidents," you simply said, starting to put a new pair of gloves on.

"I don't do accidents," he said, finding himself watching you.

"So you did this on purpose?" you teased, seeing the knot return between his brows.

"No—" he started.

"You just said you don't do accidents, though?" you teased again, the scowl on his face growing.

"Shut the hell up," he said. Again, with no real bite in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgment, followed by a little laugh. You didn't notice, but his face lit up when he heard your laugh. His eyes were locked on you like no other. You were like a breath of fresh air. He'd never know how to react to that feeling.

You finally sat down and started to suture the gash on his arm, your movements quick, efficient, but meticulous. A period of silence passed between you both, the faint music you had playing in the background filling the lack of conversation.

You started humming again. You were honestly doing it subconsciously; it was a habit at this point. Plus, it was helping you focus.

Kid found himself looking at you again, not being able to take his eyes off of you. He didn't know why he couldn't.

Usually, with anyone else, he'd find the humming annoying. Maybe even tell them to shut up. But he oddly found himself enjoying yours. He'd never heard you hum before.

And he'd love to hear it again.

And again.

You both got lost in the silence and faint music in the background, the med-bay becoming a sanctuary for both of you. It felt like nothing could interrupt you both. The silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable.

Suddenly, he spoke up.

"Thanks, Y/N."

You stopped.

For just a moment.

"Don't thank me," you said, looking up at him and giving him a small smile.

"You're not a problem, Kid."

"I'm more than happy to take care of you."

You watched his expression falter for just a moment before going back to its normal state. He gently rested his head back on the bed, staring at the wall. You went back to work.

The silence loomed over the both of you again.

Kid found himself staring at you again. He'd never admit it, but he liked your slightly off-tune humming. The way you slightly bit the inside of your cheek when focusing on something. The way you were extra careful with him, even though he could destroy everything within a mile radius if he really wanted to.

God, what the hell is he thinking?

You're killing him here.

You started to get toward the end of your sutures, looking up to see if he was doing okay. I mean, you'd been zoned out for the past ten minutes.

You looked up to see him already looking at you.

You brushed it off and looked back down to focus, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You looked up at him once more and then back down.

"You're staring."

He scoffed.

"Told you I don't do accidents."

-------------------------------------------------------------

He grinned. “Have a little faith in me. I can manage one conversation on my own.”

“Please use the help,” Beckman said beside you. “It’s considerably less embarrassing for the rest of us. Requires less alcohol too.”

“You’re not going to like my idea for this one then,” you warned him.

He sighed and looked toward the exit, contemplating if he needed another smoke despite having walked in less than a minute ago.

“There’s a spare booth in the corner,” Hongo said. “We can move there and leave these two to scheme.”

You rolled your eyes at them before you turned to your captain. “I think we need to use the pity card.”

Shanks gestured to his missing arm. “I try it but most of them don’t bite.”

“Not the arm,” you said. “That’s way too obvious. Lucky, swap places with me?”

You dropped down next to Shanks and immediately shuffled closer so you were sitting again to him. You draped his arm purposefully over your shoulder and adjusted yourself a few times to make sure it looked comfortable. Shanks’ grin only grew wider as you did so. He was very malleable which made this much easier.  

Beckman raised an eyebrow at you. “And this is supposed to help?”

“It will,” you said. “Alright, we’re dating.”

“Okay,” Shanks said immediately and he squeezed you against him.

“No,” you protested. “You’re miserable in this relationship. I’m an absolute bitch and I’m going to break up with you by the end of the night. Then you can go and console yourself somewhere warm.”

Shanks moved his arm from your shoulders to grab his drink. “No way that’s going to work.”

“Trust me. She’s only going to be interested in a one-night thing and rebound sex is perfect for that. And she’ll feel bad for you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Beckman informed you.

“It’ll work. Can you order me a drink, captain?”

Shanks tilted his head to the side. “Would you really call me that if we were together? It feels a little formal.”

“We’re not fake dating yet. Be patient.”

“If this works, I’ll pay for a round,” Limejuice said with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

“Two for me,” you said. “Seeing as it’s my idea.”

“Deal.”

She brought over the first round with a pleasant, customer-perfected smile. If she even noticed Shanks more than a passing glance, it was impressive. But the second she put a drink in front of you, you made a show of wrinkling your nose.

“Are you serious?” you asked him, voice sharper than it had ever been toward your captain. “Why did you buy me this? This is my usual. I didn’t want my usual.”

Shanks almost immediately ruined it by smiling as though it was a game. He managed to wrangle the expression after a minute. “I’m sorry?”

You pushed the drink away from you and rolled your eyes. “I wanted to try something new. How do you even know what types of drinks I like anyway? That’s so fucking creepy.”

The woman was giving you a very confused look. She glanced to the arm on your shoulders and seemed to be debating whether to take the drink back or leave the situation to play itself out. You tried not to look at her but it was difficult considering your crew had awful poker faces.

Yasopp brought his hand up to cover his mouth, barely managing to conceal his laughter with a cough.

“Okay, okay,” Shanks said as though he meant to soothe an irritable animal. He did not sound even vaguely as affronted as you needed him too. “Why don’t you choose something else and I’ll get it for you.”

You turned your glare on him. “I don’t want anything else. My night has already been ruined.” You shrugged his arm off and had to fight not to return his very easy, very unoffended smile. “Why do you always do this? Try and make up for your mistakes with gifts and crap I don’t want?”

Hongo snorted and you elbowed him. That made him laugh harder.

It was too early in the evening to storm off though so you crossed your arms and settled for a sulk against the booth. Shanks asked for another drink and the woman’s expression turned incredibly sympathetic as she hurried off.

You waited until she was far enough away before you beamed proudly.

“Working already,” you said.

You picked up the drink he’d ordered for you and glanced over to make sure she wasn’t looking before you drank. He knew your usual order. It was exactly what you had wanted and you’d been silently hoping she wouldn’t take it back.

“You’re awfully good at this,” Yasopp commented.

“You’re all terrible,” you huffed. You looked toward Shanks. “You need to stop smiling like this is funny. You’re trying to get pity, not convince her you’re a masochist.”

“But it is funny,” he argued. “I didn’t know you could be so rude.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the whole point of you being my soon-to-be ex. Which is going to be really hard to commit to if you’re all laughing.”

“She hasn’t been rude once,” Beckman commented. “Both the things she said were compliments.”

“I know. If I was making him sound bad, she wouldn’t be interested. You’ll see.”

“There’s more of this?”

You nodded sincerely. “Of course there’s more to it. She’s not going to want to be with him if she thinks he’s cheating. So, I need to storm out of here and he needs to go mope. But I’m also not returning to the ship alone so…”

“So this is a whole night thing?” Lucky Roux asked.

“Exactly.”

“Brilliant,” Shanks agreed and downed his drink.

He really was the weakest link in this performance. You could see it.

The waitress seemed almost nervous to place the drink in front of you when she returned and you sighed very dramatically but took it.

“Men,” you muttered under your breath.

She gave you the closest thing she could get to a sympathetic smile while also appearing slightly unnerved by you.

Yasopp took full advantage of the situation. He leaned across and took your favoured drink from in front of you while Limejuice spoke to the waitress. Shanks removed it from him before he could drink it, moving it back in front of you without even looking.

“This is blatant favouritism,” Yasopp said. “She said she didn’t want it and she has a new one.”

“She might change her mind,” Shanks offered.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to always take my side with everything. It’s embarrassing. I’m an adult.”

“See,” Yasopp said.

You still moved the drink closer to you, shooting a rude gesture toward him. Shanks smiled at you and you narrowed your eyes in response.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“All warm and nice. It annoys me.”

“It’s out of love.”

You almost facepalmed. That was the opposite of what you needed him to say. The mistreated boyfriend thing was already failing. Impressive because you knew he could really make the wet, pathetic man look work when he wanted to.

It just seemed tonight his acting skills had disappeared.

Beckman sighed deeply on the other side of the table as the waitress left. “I actually think this might be worse than the usual attempts.”

“It’s way worse,” Limejuice agreed but he looked one comment away from laughing.

“Because our captain is making this very hard,” you pointed out.

“I thought I was meant to be dating you,” Shanks said and his arm settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Nobody’s going to buy it if you’re complaining the whole time. There has to be some affection in there too.”

“No,” you said. “That’s literally the point.”

“You’re not trying to convince the room at large,” Hongo pointed out.

“Thankfully,” Beckman muttered.

Yasopp leaned across the table toward you. “What are you thinking for the big breakup?” he asked. “Screaming match?”

You thought about it for a second before you looked up to Shanks. “Why do you think we would break up? I need something believable but that still paints you in a good light.”

“You’ll get one or the other,” Limejuice told you.

Shanks drummed his fingers against your shoulder as he thought about it. You picked up your original drink and looked around the tavern. Nobody here was interesting enough that you could lean into the ‘fine, I’ll go find somebody else’ play. Not that you really wanted to either way.

“Can’t think of anything,” he said. “Ah well. Nothing to it. Guess you’re stuck here.”

Not helpful. You looked up to him and he smiled as though he wasn’t thwarting your entire plan. This is why you had stopped helping him get laid ages ago. He always sabotaged it.

“I’ll figure something out,” you said. “Then I’ll storm off and meet you guys back on the Red Force.”

“You shouldn’t be walking this area by yourself,” Shanks mentioned. “Couple of people have been glancing in this direction. Beck can take you back.”

“I have a weapon.”

“Still. Just to be safe.”

“We’ll all go back together,” Beckman said. “You can stay if this ridiculous plan works out but we’re leaving early tomorrow and I’m not collecting everyone in the morning.”

“If somebody gets left behind, it’s probably going to be Yasopp,” you said.

“What? Why me?!”

You picked up the drink he’d tried to steal from you and took a very pointed sip from it. “Just a hunch.”

While he huffed about that, you settled into the leather booth, body slotting easily against Shanks’ side. It was far more comfortable than it should have been. And if you focused, you could easily ignore the way the proximity made your heart misfire.

There was no lie easy enough to swallow surrounding the true reason. So, you didn’t bother to try.

“I was left behind once,” Shanks mentioned. “Hardly the worst thing.”

“Most peaceful hours of my life,” Beckman said.

“And here I thought that would be before you met us,” you mentioned.

“I’ve known you lot for long enough that I’ve forgotten what it was like before then.”

“Boring,” Shanks volunteered.

You chuckled and looked toward the waitress. She should be bringing over whatever Limejuice had asked for soon but you’d entirely failed to think of any further complaints surrounding Shanks at the moment.

So you sat up.

You reached for his hair to try and pull some forward. He leaned closer to you to allow you to mess with the locks although granted, they were rarely perfectly tamed anyway.

“What are we doing now?” he asked. “Are you trying to imply we found somewhere quiet?”

You pushed his shoulder lightly in reprimand. “No. I’m trying to imitate that pathetic look you get sometimes when you’re really drunk.”

“Pathetic?” he repeated.

You met his eyes and for a second, the fingers threading through his hair paused before you got back onto task. “You look really sad,” you explained. “And seeing as you plan on ruining my idea by smiling constantly, I need to use everything in my arsenal.”

“Can’t fault me for it,” he said. “But come on, I don’t have a sad drunk look.”

Confirmations came from everybody at the exact same time which succeeded in making Shanks laugh, tipping his head away from you. You should have complained about your work but it was easier to join in. There was no way you could successfully replicate it without buying him half of the bar.

And after that he probably wouldn’t go home with her. You’d have to listen to him mumbling when he inevitably passed out on your chest. Which would be a massive failure.

She arrived not long after and you pushed Shanks’ arm off your shoulders with a grumble about him being far too warm.

This plan was starting to annoy you a bit much.

The constant shifts between comfortable warmth and the air of the tavern were beginning to get under your skin. But you still didn’t have an idea for the breakup which meant you had to persist through it.

And persist you did, if unhappily so.

Right until Beckman got everyone to pay.

You didn’t stand immediately. “The rest of you can go ahead,” you said. “Just got to finish the whole act.”

Shanks grinned at you. “I still don’t know if this will work.”

“Trust me, it will,” you promised as the woman came over to collect the beri.

She kept glancing toward him, attention hovering briefly on you as she did so. You rolled your eyes and tried to give her a mildly disgruntled look while the others filed from the booth and began to make their way toward the exit.

Everybody had been pretty well behaved that evening and you couldn’t help but feel it was at least partially because they all wanted to see how this would end up going.

“This was the worst night ever,” you complained, trying to look like you didn’t want to follow the rest of the crew home. “I can’t believe you dragged me out here with your stupid smile and pretty words. I’m so tired of having to do this all the time.”

Shanks still wasn’t helping. The messy hair had been a fatal error on your part. Your heart was stuck as he looked at you through the strands.

“I’m sorry,” he said and he still sounded far too affectionate to play the role of a man being badgered by his partner for nothing. “I’ll make it up to you with a better night out.”

“No,” you insisted. “I don’t want another night. I’m tired of you constantly trying to look after me. Just let me decide when I want to do something.”

That sounded awkward. You could hear it sounded wrong.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem the other woman had felt the same way. She kept giving him sympathetic, pitying looks as though she had just noticed your captain was unfairly handsome. Took her long enough.

You stood from the table and straightened your clothes. Shanks moved as though to join you and you pointed at him.

“Don’t follow me,” you said. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

It hurt a little more than you had thought it would. It shouldn’t have and yet it stung at your chest. You tried to ignore it.

His smile faltered for barely a second before returning, easier and brighter than before. If you had not been staring directly at him, you might have missed it.

“Would you stop?” you asked.

“Stop what?”

“I just said we shouldn’t see each other anymore and you’re grinning like you won a prize. Do I really mean so little to you?”

That didn’t sound too flattering on his side of things. But he opened his mouth to respond and you already knew he was about to make it so much worse. You spun on your heel and marched from the tavern without waiting.

The rest of the crew stood together at the corner of the street and by the time you joined, you knew your expression was annoyed.

Although whether you were annoyed about him ruining the plan or about having to leave in general, you couldn’t really tell. And you didn’t care to think about it for much longer.

“Is she interested?” Beckman asked.

You nodded, trying hard enough to look casual that you probably achieved the opposite. “She is. I’m sure we’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Joyful.”

“Are you going to be in a mood for the rest of the night then?” Yasopp asked. “Like you always are when he goes home with a woman?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiled far too suspiciously and you were halfway through your answering rebuttal when Beckman looked past your shoulder. “Guess not.”

“What?”

You looked back to find Shanks stepping through the entrance of the tavern, very much alone. His hair was still mussed from your attempts at making him look sadder but his smile was very relaxed. He strolled over lazily like he had nowhere else to be and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t tell me I did all of that and you still managed to mess it up,” you complained as he got closer.

He looked far too pleased with himself. “Tried my hardest.”

Yasopp laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t work. Do you know what probably ruined it? That whole expression you shot at her toward the end. It was basically a threat.”

“What are you talking about?” you countered. “That’s not the expression I was going for. I more wanted a ‘don’t waste your time’ look.”

Lucky Roux snorted. “You missed that by a mile.”

Oops. You hadn’t meant to be that transparent about it. You shrugged. “Whatever. Even if she thought that, it’s not going to change the whole breakup and sad look I gave you. How did you possibly mess that part up?”

Shanks wrapped his arm around your shoulder. The familiar warmth relaxed some of your stress even though it shouldn’t have.

“Don’t worry, your plan worked perfectly. I just declined.”

“You did what?” you complained. “I embarrassed myself the whole evening and you just said no?”

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

You groaned and tipped your head to the side so it was resting against him. “I’m never committing this hard to a plan for you again.”

“If only I could believe that,” Beckman sighed.

It turned out to be a lie within the first week when you realised Shanks and you made very good exes. And being in a fake relationship with him could be more beneficial than you thought.

Somebody was being unnecessarily persistent when it came to you?

Well, it was impressive how quickly they disappeared when you spoke about your ex-boyfriend who just so happened to be an emperor. All their interest gone the moment you looked over to Shanks and smiled and he returned the grin.

He didn’t even need to move from wherever he was. He’d just meet your eyes and that would be enough to chase whatever annoyance was bothering you.

So you had an easy way out of situations without a fight.

And it did work unfortunately well for its original purpose too.

Something you learned when you wound up in a market. One considerably nicer than the ones your crew more often frequented.

Stalls lined the edges of the square, stocked with foods and curiosities. The late afternoon warmth still clung to the stone beneath your boots, softened by the occasional breeze carrying spice, sugar and something frying in oil through the crowd. People wandered between merchants without any particular urgency, voices folding easily beneath the gentle music drifting from somewhere you couldn’t quite place.

It was the sort of market that encouraged lingering. Unfortunately, your crew had never needed much encouragement.

“Thank you,” you said to the merchant as she finished writing down your drink orders and stepped away to prepare them.

You moved to Yasopp, Hongo, and Lucky Roux and nodded. “There. That’s my card debt cleared,” you said. “But I’m not carrying everything back. The last time that ended with my clothing soaked through.”

“Don’t look now, but I think somebody’s interested in your ‘ex’,” Yasopp mentioned, his voice loud enough to carry through the rattle of ice in the shaker behind you.  

You frowned and looked over his shoulder to find a group of women who were looking toward the table you’d left Shanks and Beckman at. Their attention was undeniable.

And the moment they heard Yasopp speak, they looked curiously toward you.

One of the women waved apologetically. “Sorry, you’re part of the Red Hair Pirates, right?”

They were very much Shanks’ type. Beautiful enough that he didn’t have to flounder for compliments and clearly intrigued by the concept of pirates in general. One of them was even sneaking glances toward Hongo.

“Guilty as charged,” Yasopp said.

“Don’t bother with these three,” you said. “They’re not worth the time.”

The women giggled to themselves as your crew gave you insulted looks. Served them right for beating you at cards the night before.

“That’s because you have very specific taste,” Hongo commented.

“Red hair only?” Yasopp asked.

You shook your head. Of course this turned into another conversation about that. But before you could offer your denial, one of the women put the two comments together and looked toward Shanks before looking back at you.

“Wait, your ex is Red Hair Shanks?”

You were going to kill Yasopp.

It was the perfect opportunity to prove once again how easily the upset ex game would work. And they were the type that Shanks would never turn down.

So you nodded and stepped away from the rest of your crew toward the group of women. They made space for you in their circle without asking.

“Unfortunately,” you said.

There was little need to fake the annoyance from you. Something about the situation was irritating enough to creep under your skin. They didn’t look like they were meaning anything by their interest.

That made it worse.

“Why are you no longer together?” the blonde asked.

“Probably because he’s a pirate,” another offered. “I can’t imagine any of them are loyal. No offense.”

You smiled, a little placated by their genuine friendliness. “None taken. But I wish it was that easy. He’s overbearingly loyal.”

“Really?”

“Annoyingly so. Every day, it’s a constant barrage of questions on if you’re okay, what you’re going to be doing, if you need any help. It’s basically nagging at that point. And when you’re trying to talk to somebody else, he’s staring at you constantly.”

“Like he’s doing right now?” one of the women asked.

You looked over your shoulder to find Shanks’ gaze was indeed locked on you. He nodded toward the seat next to him and you gestured toward the group you were with.

“See.”

They all looked appropriately interested by your acknowledgement. A few waved at him in greeting and you didn’t even need to try to look jaded.

“It was one of the reasons we broke up,” you said. “He was just too clingy.”

Behind you, you heard Hongo laugh. You wondered if you could throw something over your shoulder and still hit them. Weren’t these three meant to be joining the rest of the crew?

“I have to admit, I wouldn’t complain if a man who looked like that wanted to be near me all the time,” the blonde said although upon meeting your eyes, she hurried to correct herself, “but I do understand it can get a bit much.”

“That’s another problem,” you said. “He’s far too handsome and he knows it. Uses those good looks to get whatever he wants.”

“Now that one I can see.”

An arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Okay, we could stand here for hours and listen to you ‘complain’ about Shanks,” Yasopp said, “but the ice in your drink is melting. Come on.”

You shrugged him off immediately and took your drink, nodding to the women. They waved you goodbye and you gave your crew a warning look. They only made it a few steps before they all started laughing.

Shanks moved the chair next to him out as you approached and you purposefully sat across from him. His hand stayed on the back of the empty chair for a second before he let it go. He did not comment on your choice.

“We’re exes again,” you told him.

“Oh? What have we broken up from this time?”

“You’re too good looking apparently,” Yasopp chuckled.

You answered that by driving your boot into his ankle as he sat down. He yelped and shuffled away from you but you’d got the hit off. Good. You’d worked out that two drinks in was about when Yasopp stopped bothering to dodge.

“That doesn’t seem like a reason to break up,” Shanks mentioned.

“Entire group over there’s interested in you,” you said. “You have your pick if you want. What else was there to say? You always have sand on your cloak?”

“Would be a more believable reason,” Limejuice commented.

You ignored them because your plan worked.

Mostly.

Shanks stayed at the table and never ventured far enough from the crew for any of the women to even speak to him. But still, their attention didn’t move from him until the market had already begun to close.

Which was a victory that you didn’t care to think about.

Not until the cover came up again during a celebration some weeks later.

It was one of your favourite types of evenings.

The music wasn’t too loud, there were just enough people for it to feel lively, and the crew had arrived on the back of a successful raid against a passing Marine vessel. You had money for good drinks and adrenaline still shifting pleasantly through your veins.

The tavern itself wasn’t anything special. The floorboards stuck beneath your boots in places, the tables were scarred from years of spilled drinks and worse decisions, and you doubted there was another drinking hole anywhere nearby. As the evening dragged on, more people squeezed inside until chairs became valuable and seating turned into a suggestion for anybody who had not arrived early enough.

Shanks and Beckman had a table to themselves but you purposefully found your way closer to the rest of the crew.

Your heart had been struggling a bit too much lately. It would be good to take a break from the efforts.

And unfortunately for Shanks, his company alone required a certain effort to act normal with.

“Captain’s looking for you,” Yasopp said halfway through your conversation with Hongo. “He’s giving you that look again.”

You turned your head to find him. Shanks hadn’t moved from his table but now there was a third person with them. A woman. You couldn’t see much from this distance but she looked sweet enough to be his style.

He met your gaze and his eyes cut toward her quickly. A plea of some sort.

She looked interested enough without your help. You smiled and turned back to the rest of the crew.

“He has that,” you said. “He’s picked up women in weirder places.”

“I think he wants your help with getting rid of her actually,” Limejuice mentioned.

“Oh, does he? Heartbreaking.” You shrugged. “What would I do about that? I think he’s more than able to come up with an excuse.”

“You can play the crazy ex role again,” Yasopp said with a chuckle. “Go over there and scare her off by telling her how amazing he is and how deeply in love with him you are.”

You hit his shoulder, harder than you should have but not enough that you felt bad about it despite how he jumped.

“Shut up. That’s not what I do.”

“No, that’s exactly what you do,” Limejuice said and stepped out of your range. “It’s basically a love confession every time. He’s so sweet and so nice and handsome.” He pitched his voice higher in imitation.

“Boosts his ego something ridiculous,” Hongo commented.

You crossed your arms and glared at your crew. “I hope you all know that the crazy ex thing is meant to help him pick up women. I can’t exactly go out there and tell them…”

You trailed off.

“Struggling to think of an insult there?” Yasopp taunted. “How about you tell him that his voice is too soothing again? And it puts you to sleep. That one was the sharpest jab I’ve ever heard in all my years on the sea.”

“He’ll never recover from being told he’s too handsome and it pisses her off.”

You rolled your eyes. They were being ridiculous. Was it that hard to realise you were trying to increase his chances of going home with women? Not give them reasons not to?

“Fine,” you said. “If you want me to be a crazier ex, I can be a crazier ex.”

“Just remember to tell him how great of a lover he is,” Limejuice called after you.

You muttered curses at all of them, shoved your drink into Hongo’s chest and turned on your heel. This situation would actually call for something more insulting. Because you were going to try and convince this woman he wasn’t worth the effort so you’d need…

You met Shanks’ eyes and he smiled in appreciation for your path over. Which immediately knocked half of the ideas out of your mind.

Great.

It wasn’t easy to stay annoyed even with the other woman at his table. Beckman stood at your approach and walked away, clearly not interested in staying for this.

You took his seat immediately.

The poor woman across from you frowned when you sat down, clearly not having expected your sudden arrival. You tried to remember that you weren’t actually annoyed at her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by flirting with a pirate captain.

So you stopped looking at her and instead looked at Shanks. You didn’t say anything, just raised your eyebrow.

“Hello, love,” he said, far too quick to settle into this game.

The word landed warmer than it had any right to. You ignored that too.

You crossed your arms. “I hope you have an explanation ready.”

The annoyance that bled into your voice surprised even you. He also hadn’t expected it and you saw interest flash over his expression for a second. You didn’t want to think about why you were so irritated.

So, you blamed Yasopp and called it the end.

The woman at the table looked between you and Shanks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Is this very important? We were talking.”

“By all means, continue,” you said, trying to wrestle your tone into something more controlled and failing. “It seems that a charming smile is enough of an answer.”

Shanks’ smirk only grew wider and you realised bitterly that Yasopp might have had a point. You needed something considerably ruder than that if you were trying to scare somebody off but your thoughts struggled to grab anything.

“I’m not trying to answer any questions,” he said innocently. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us.”

You looked toward the other woman and chose to ignore him. “Look, if I can give you one hint,” you said. “You don’t want to get involved with this.”

She blinked at you in confusion before she glanced toward Shanks again. “What do you mean…? Are you two…?”

You rolled your eyes. “Once. Worst choice I’ve ever made.”

Part of you didn’t know what to expect and you were hoping for somebody more focused on him that would let you just lean into the jealousy side. Instead, she lowered her voice as though Shanks wasn’t there.

“What do you mean?”

Shit. Now you had to think of actual reasons.

Which you had none of.

“You know how pirates are,” you said, hedging as close as you could toward safety. “None of them are worth the effort. They’ve only got their good looks and confidence. There’s almost nothing else there.”

She hummed. “For one night, do you need much more?”

You hated this much more than you cared to say. Because she had a point. A good point. And Shanks could definitely hear this conversation even if he was pretending to look elsewhere and let the women talk it out.

“Maybe not but... he’s irritating.”

“I’m sure I can survive that.”

“Extremely irritating.”

She stared at you as though genuinely confused and you had to consider that that wasn’t really a reason not to sleep with your captain.

You had to bite your tongue before something else slipped free. Did you really struggle this badly to insult him? Even when you specifically were meant to be doing that? It was Shanks. There were like a thousand things you should be able to see as flaws.

Like the fact he… the way he…

You turned away from the woman to glare at Shanks instead. “You’re so annoying.”

He startled at the genuine bite to your tone. “What?”

You stood up from the table and left. A genuinely concerned voice called your name from the direction of the rest of the crew but you ignored them too.

This was such a stupid problem to have. A ridiculous problem caused by a ridiculous man who even managed to be a good fake ex as well as everything else. Who even did that?

The Red Force waited for you at the harbour, dark and familiar against the water. She almost seemed judgemental as you approached and you paused long enough to glare up at her hull. She had no room to judge you for anything when she had brought the insufferable man to your doorstep in the first place.

Nobody else was aboard. Nobody had bothered staying behind to watch her tonight. In a town like this, Shanks’ reputation did most of the work.

The quiet was welcome after the tavern. You dropped into your favourite hammock in the dining hall and stared through the windows. The ship rocked gently beneath you, water thumping steadily against the hull. You closed your eyes and just listened. Listened to the groan of the boards above you and the cries of the gulls beyond and the creak of the door as it opened.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“On my own ship?”

You opened one eye to glare at him. “I can go and sulk elsewhere if you prefer but you have a party to get to.”

Shanks wasn’t smiling anymore. His expression had gone quieter as he approached, thoughtful enough that some of your irritation lost its footing.

“So,” he said. “That last one felt real.”

“It was,” you said. “You are annoying. I don’t think this is a big revelation.”

He tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “It’s not. You’re hardly the first person to tell me that either but that was more personal than usual. Almost sounded like you had another reason behind it.”

“The others were getting under my skin,” you admitted. “Probably made me sound more on edge than I meant to.”

“They said the same thing when I asked.”

“Mm. Why did you need me to get rid of that woman anyway?” you asked, mind making your tongue a little looser than it should have been. “You’ve never struggled to get rid of them on your own before.”

He chuckled softly. “It was a bit of an excuse.”

“For what?”

“You looked annoyed,” he said. “Thought you might like to do something fun.”

You had been annoyed. You’d been annoyed because your silly little attempt at being his wingman shouldn’t have revealed anything near the level it had. Not to everybody else on the crew.

“Also, I think that’s the first real insult you’ve given me,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it definitely is.”

“I’ve called you irritating too.”

“Annoying and irritating mean the same thing,” he said. “So, I’m counting them both as one. It’s impressive considering we’re meant to have a whole breakup history.”

You hated how observational he was sometimes. Despised it with your very core. He was meant to be relaxing and enjoying the attention and not noticing how few of your complaints were true.  

“We do have a whole breakup history,” you muttered. “We’ve broken up three times now from our fake relationship.”

“And yet you still can’t think of one actual problem?”

“Maybe you should consider getting more flaws then,” you challenged. “Maybe then it would be easier to find reasons why somebody shouldn’t date you.”

“I have plenty. Beck probably has a list somewhere.”

“Actual, usual flaws,” you complained. “Being a bad actor when it comes to our fake breakups isn’t one I can use.”

He laughed and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not trying too hard. Mostly because I don’t like the idea as a whole. Hard to commit to something like that.”

He didn’t enjoy it? You sat up properly now, swinging both your legs out of the hammock so you could stare at him. There was sand on his cloak and your eyes lingered on it for a second before you could focus again. On his hair falling across his face and the easy grin that somehow dismantled your entire defence.

“If you don’t like it, why have you let me do it three times now?” you asked.

“Oh, I enjoyed the fake dating part of it,” he said. “So I figured I could put up with the fake breakup part if it meant I got more of the rest.”

“The breakup was the point,” you pointed out.

“Maybe. It was a good plan,” he said. “A few months ago, I wouldn’t have minded the whole thing but I’ve changed my mind on plenty since then.”

“It worked.”

“Did it? Because in my mind, I was supposed to end up taking somebody else home and well… three times now and it hasn’t happened once.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you keep turning them down when you’re at the finish line.”

He grinned innocently. “Absolute mystery why.”

“Shanks…”

“Yes?”

You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to gather your thoughts together before you just sighed. There was no point. You didn’t enjoy the game either so there was no point in continuing to force yourself to do so.

“Alright,” you said. “We won’t use it anymore. No more fake breakups.”

He nodded solemnly. “And no more fake dating.”

“That goes with the fake breakups.”

“The fake ones were pretty bad anyway. And you can’t seem to talk anyone out of wanting me, and I’ve stopped wanting anyone else. Seems like we’re running out of excuses.”

Your brain stumbled. For a second, you swore even the ocean outside stopped swaying as you stared blankly at Shanks. His expression betrayed nothing about what he just said. Gave you little to help your brain move through.

You stood from the hammock very slowly. “I’m sorry?”

He shrugged as though he’d said something about the weather. “You’re the one who couldn’t find a single reason not to date me. I’m sure if you asked any other woman, they could rattle off countless. I drink too much –”

“Only when we’re all having fun.”

“I’m obnoxious.”

“Beckman calls you that. I disagree.”

“I’m pretty carefree about most things.”

“Let somebody threaten this ship or the people on it and see how quickly that changes.”

“I don’t notice I’ve fallen for a woman until she pretends to break up with me.”

“You… I’m sorry?”

He actually laughed then. “You were ready to defend me on that without even realising what I said.”

You had been planning on it. Before the comment had fully registered in your mind, you had already been ready to find the flaw in his logic. The realisation felt almost distant from your own mind before you breathed out through your nose.

“You’re bad at lying,” you finally said. “That’s a flaw.”

“Not when I want to,” he said. “I don’t need to here. And as much as you complain that I’m a bad actor, you were worse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve offered me a crazy ex and then just behaved mildly annoyed at everything,” he said.

You crossed your arms because you thought you had been a damn fine actor. “It’s not my fault when I have such little material to work with. I can’t complain about you being bad at relationships when you’re remembering what I drink and putting your cloak over my shoulders.”

“I’m sure you could have found something.”

“I tried.”

“Then that just proves my point better,” he said. “If there’s nothing you can think of about why we shouldn’t be together then…”

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Stared at him for far too long while every part of the conversation caught up to you all at once.

Shanks moved closer, fingers lightly brushing over your wrist as you tried to put your thoughts and words together. He lifted your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he patiently waited for an answer he already knew.

Because it would be impossible to deny.

The problem had never been finding reasons somebody would want him. It was pretending you weren’t somebody who did.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you finally said. “My reputation is ruined.”

He chuckled. “They’ll probably find something else to tease you over.”

“I don’t even know when I fell for you,” you admitted. “You’re just… you. There’s no difference between what I think about you now and what I did when we first met.”

That infuriatingly smug smile was back on his face. “That’s probably more of a confession than you think it is.”

“I know.”

“So,” he said. “We have a deal then? No more fake exes.”

“No more exes,” you said. “Fake or not.”

“Well, I can’t promise that because I know several women who –”

You pushed his shoulder and laughed. “Not what I meant.”

He laughed with you. “I know.”

“You’re annoying,” you repeated.

“I’ve been told. And seeing as it’s the only true insult you can think of for me, I suppose I’m going to have to take it to heart.”

He was staring, eyes alight with expectation.

“Why do you look like you’re waiting for something?” you asked.

“I am,” he said. “But seeing as the other realisation took you so long, I’m prepared for –”

You leaned in to kiss him before he could finish. He smiled against your mouth, almost laughing before he responded. His hand settled against your waist and you shifted closer to him without thinking, following him when he moved back.

He chuckled and dropped his forehead against your own. “I was starting to think I’d have to spell that one out too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe being smug is one of your flaws.”

“Do you count it as one?”

You kissed him again before he expected you to answer that honestly.

Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase ; @chaeisrichnow ; @aceidentallyinlove ; @ilovedreming ; @moon-shampoo ; @charukii 

When the moon was new and the clouds were low, the seas became dreadfully dark. Not a single mark could be seen, not even your own hand before your face. In such inky blackness, the mind starts to conjure up sounds, images, sensations. Colors flickering in front of your corneas that are not there, whispers of words floating through your ears that send chills up your spine. Fingers clenching against the cold metal of the guard rail before you and the sting of salt from the ocean in your nose kept you grounded, but only by so much. You were shivering in your sleepwear, the cold night air not even stirred by a breeze. Everything around you was still, save for your racing heartbeat and thoughts swirling through your head.

Another night terror had awoken you. You thrashed in your bunk, tangling yourself in the sheets and rattling the metal frame around you until you knocked your head against the wall, consciousness snapping into you and your eyes ripping open, frazzled and delirious and aching all over. An aggravated grunt came from above you, and a tired, "Shh" was hushed across from you as your fellow crew mates expressed their annoyance. You hadn't meant it, but it had been the fourth time this week.

You stood from your bed, barefoot, and departed from the bunk room, down the icy paneled hallways of the submersible you resided in, your form eclipsing the lights lining the path and bouncing dark shadows across the walls. You climbed up through two flights of ladder wells and briskly moved towards the exit door on the bow. The vessel had surfaced for the night. Opening the hatch door left you even more in the dark than you were inside the submarine, but you blindly stepped across the wooden outer deck, floor still damp from the underwater voyage, until your torso bumped the guard rail. Fingers clenched the beam.

And there you stood. Surrounded by absolutely nothing.

You inhaled slowly through your nose, the salty air leaving a faint taste on the back of your tongue, bitter and wet, yet still familiar enough to bring you a minor sense of comfort.

The sound of the hatch door opening behind you caused you to jump, whipping your head around to where the light from an electric torch was beaming directly at you, surrounding you in a bright yellow glow. You squinted your eyes and held your hand up, just barely making out the silhouette of a man in the doorway.

"What are you doing out here?" he spoke, angling the light away from your face.

Captain Trafalgar Law.

You swallowed, anxiety creeping into your chest, thick and tight.

"I had a bad dream," you uttered. The claim sounded so juvenile spoken out loud, you couldn't help but stifle a cringe. "Did you... need me?"

Law closed the door behind him as he too paced across the wooden deck, though at least he was wearing shoes. His torch was angled toward the ground. "No. I just didn't think you'd be out here, too."

You couldn't help but feel a twist of disappointment at his dismissive words, but nevertheless, Law took a spot directly next to you, shining his light out over the ocean. It didn't reach very far, but cut just enough through the deep darkness that you were finally able to see ripples of the water's current, calming and deliberate. You wondered what sort of lifeforms swam below you, untouched by your grievances, unbothered by the swirling waves. You wondered if their lives were easier than your's, more simple.

"Should I talk to the crew about making these guard rails taller?" he suddenly asked.

You turned to look at him, one of your eyebrows lifting in confusion. "What?"

Law seemed to gulp. "You weren't... thinking of jumping over, were you?"

You gazed wide-eyed at your captain. But then again, he was out here with you as well. With a quiet voice, you asked, "... Were you?"

The man dropped his head. You followed suit, gazing at your hands draped over the railing now that you could actually see them properly. You had bruised your thumbnail when working on repairing a section of the hull a week prior, and the dark black and blue splotch was still healing as your nail continued to grow. You rubbed the spot with your index finger.

"I heard from Ikkaku that you've been having nightmares frequently," Law suddenly stated. "She said it's been waking up the rest of the crew."

Blood rushed to your face in shame. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," the man stated. "You can't stop that sort of thing. But if it's getting to the point where it's keeping you up, affecting your work, or just..." He trailed off. He took a deep breath. "You can talk to someone."

You looked at Law from the corner of your eye. His head was down, his black hair tousled as if he had also just come from bed. The hoodie he was wearing was crumpled and unwashed.

"Law, why did you come out here?" you suddenly asked.

You could hear the breath he drew into his lungs. The hand holding the torch clenched. "I also had a nightmare. Snapped me right up."

Your shoulders slumped. "Fourth one this week?"

Law hummed, a dry, weak sound. "Something like that."

"You can talk to someone, too, you know," you mused, your voice low.

The man's golden eyes darted toward you, but you stayed gazing out at the open ocean in front of you. Clouds were still low on the horizon, and you truly weren't staring at anything at all. But he could see the weariness in your face, bags under your eyes and lips downturned. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, hunched and heavy, as if you could collapse at any moment. He wanted to be ready to catch you.

"What do you dream about?" he asked, cautiously.

You shifted your weight on your feet. "I dream about the man I was with before I joined your crew. The things he would do to me and say to me, the lies he would make me believe about myself. I can still feel his hands on me, and I hear his voice in my head. Even in my dreams it hurts like hell." You shook your head slowly, as if trying to keep the vivid images from flooding your mind like a torrent. Being awake was the only reprieve you got from your vivid memories.

Law felt his stomach churn in deep understanding. Trauma was one hell of an experience. "I dream about my family... my illness... my savior. Sometimes I can still smell smoke even when I'm wide awake. I hear their screams and cries when I close my eyes, see blood in the snow, feel the canvas blanket around my shoulders."

"I'm so sorry, Law," you murmured.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered back.

Quiet surrounded the two of you yet again, a cold shiver causing you to convulse. Without a word, Law lowered the flashlight to the floor, pulled down the zipper of his hoodie, and draped the fabric around your shoulders. It smelled like musk, like wood and oil, but it smelled like him. It felt like a cliche you'd read in a fairytale, but you accepted the gesture without question, letting the fabric embrace you and shield you from the dark.

"There's not much I can say that can make you feel better," he mused, picking the torch back up. "But I'm happy to have you on my crew. No matter what happens. You will always have a home here. You're protected."

You smiled up at him, a small grin of profound admiration that warmed Law's very soul. "Even that was enough to make me feel better." You exhaled softly. You wanted to say so many things back to him. You wanted to thank him from the bottom of your heart for giving you a home, a new lease on life. For offering you protection, work, a new family, or never ending adventures. You wanted to pour your heart out for him, offer it to him to be his forever. But now wasn't the time for that. You weren't sure when it would be.

For now, you were content with lightly leaning your temple against his arm and closing your eyes, hoping that your silent sentiments would somehow reach his own weary mind.

thursday arrives quickly. it's a beautiful day outside, with the sun shining and birds chirping and the ominous feeling of change lingering in the air. your last class ends late so that you end up running late to meet law.

it's your last few weeks of classes before you start writing your undergrad thesis. as you rush out of the building, you find yourself almost glad that your professor kept you longer, because at least that prevents you from having too much time to overthink what you're going to say to law once you see him. unfortunately, your brain already had more than enough time to do just that when you were trying to sleep last night, but that's a different story.

the air is gradually starting to warm up from winter and you notice the first trees beginning to blossom on your way over to nami's café. of course, she was delighted when she learned that her small cozy space was where you're meeting law, already plotting ways to overhear your conversation. until she realized that she would be out of town today, visiting her sister. you didn't dare tell her that you already knew that when you agreed to meet law there. otherwise you definitely would have suggested going somewhere else.

nami is a couple years older than you and moved here to open a café with her girlfriend. she had been looking for an opportunity for a while, so when the previous owner had to close down, she bought the place from him and gave it a makeover. now she runs the café with a sense for business that would make any finance major shudder. her girlfriend vivi, with her friendly and down to earth attitude, balances her out perfectly. it's obvious who does most of the customer service, even though nami insists on running the register whenever she can.

you half expect law not to be there when you show up ten minutes late, but as you round the corner you can already spot his tall silhouette standing by the entrance, right below the sign reading 'cat café'. he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn leather jacket, messy dark hair curling in the wind. you slightly pick up your pace when he spots you.

"hey", you greet him, a little out of breath.

law's face stays blank. "hi."

you shift on your feet. "sorry for running late."

"it's fine."

"wanna go inside?", you ask motioning to the door.

law doesn't respond, but he silently follows you through the glass door into the café.

you quickly scan the room for a seat. it's not too crowded, rush hour usually ends after most people have grabbed their morning drinks. there's only a few students curled up behind their laptops and a group of girls chatting in a corner.

you make your way over to your favourite table located right by the window. law keeps his jacket on when he sits down across from you, his gaze traveling over your surroundings.

without your consent your eyes glue themselves to his face and you realize that this is the first good look you're getting at him. the dark alley you saw him in last week didn't really allow for a closer examination of how his features have changed, and neither did watching him perform on stage.

law looks different. you were, in fact, right about the eyebrow piercing, the small golden hoop peeking out through dark strands of hair that have fallen in front of his face. he wears his hair a little longer now and you can't help but notice the way it compliments his high cheekbones. his straight nose, the sharpness of his jaw, it all comes together quite nicely. you catch yourself wondering if he's always been this handsome.

as you drag your eyes back up his face, you're suddenly met with law's golden ones staring right back at you, catching you in your careful observations of his facial structure. a hint of embarrassment creeps up your neck. you're not sure if he can tell, but if he does, then at least he doesn't mention it.

"where are the cats?", he asks instead.

"sorry?"

law lets his gaze wander around the room again. you try not to think about how the last time he was here, this was still an entirely different place.

"aren't there supposed to be cats in a cat café?"

letting out a breath you didn't notice you were holding, you chuckle quietly.

"i guess so. don't ask nami about it, she gets really defensive about this for some reason."

funnily enough, law is not the first person it occurred to, that the name 'cat café' would usually imply having cats around. whenever you witness people bringing up this detail to the red-haired owner, nami shuts them down immediately with an irritated 'so what?'.

she insists that it has nothing to do with the fact that her co-owner, and girlfriend, is terribly allergic to cats, which is a detail nami might have forgotten about when she registered the name. you're pretty sure she had already picked out the cats she was planning to adopt, when she realized that her idea was not going to work with vivi there.

"you know the owner?"

"oh, yes, she's my friend."

law blinks.

"she's not here today", you quickly add, scared that he might think you just agreed to come here to show him off to your new friends.

he simply nods. so much for small talk.

as you're contemplating the best way to break the oncoming silence, vivi suddenly appears next to you.

"hi there, good to see you, what can i get for you today?", she smiles and you silently thank her for saving you from whatever this moment was.

"hi vivi", you smile back gratefully. "i'll just have a cup of green tea."

she nods and looks at law.

"a black coffee, please."

"coming right up", vivi confirms before walking back over to the counter.

"is she your friend too?", law asks.

you shake your head. "not really. we get along, but i don't know her that well."

he only hums in response.

you rack your brain for something to say, preferably something that doesn't sound like 'so what have you been up to for the past three years?', because first of all, that's an incredibly lame thing to ask someone, and second of all, it's not like you don't already know the answer. you haven't exactly been keeping tabs on law's band, but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't hear about the milestones they've reached. of course you know about the record they put out, the sold out shows, and that music video that went viral six months ago. it's not like you've been living under a rock.

coming up with an appropriate conversation starter only becomes harder when you remember that you still have no idea why law asked to see you in the first place, or if he really just didn't want to be rude when you talked after the show. you don't want to rope him into a conversation he's not even interested in.

the silence between you drags out uncomfortably, even when vivi comes back and sets your drinks down in front of you. uncertain of what to do, you search his face for any kind of signal, while law simply stares down at the table. when he finally looks up and your eyes meet, you can't help but let out an awkward chuckle.

"this is weird", you say truthfully.

law seems immediately grateful that you've broken the silence. you watch his tense shoulders drop slightly as he lets out the tiniest chuckle as well. it's more of an exhale, honestly.

"it really is", law agrees.

a few seconds pass by before he speaks again.

"fuck", he sighs. "i don't really know what to say."

you give him a sympathetic look. "yeah, me too."

law runs a hand through his hair.

"thanks for, uh, coming to the show last week."

he looks so uneasy when he says it, that you almost get the impression he's embarrassed about you having been there.

"sure", you say uncertainly. "i hope that was okay."

his eyes snap up to yours.

"of course", he says a little to quickly, before clearing his throat. "you're always welcome, i mean."

you smile. "thanks. i'll keep that in mind then."

law spends a moment examining his hands, seemingly lost in thought.

"actually, i was wondering", he seems almost shy when he peeks back up at you. "are you still into photography?"

"yeah, sure." you tilt your head to the side in thought. "i don't have as much time for it as i used to, but i dabble."

"you still got the vintage camera my dad got you?"

a smile appears on your lips at the memory. you've always been passionate about photography. it had been your fifteenth birthday when law's father approached you with his old digital camera. even back then, you knew that it was probably worth a fortune, but he just casually handed it to you, insisting that it was better off with someone who would actually use it. to this day it's one of your most treasured possessions.

"of course", you say.

then you playfully narrow your eyes at him.

"don't tell me you want it back now", you joke and watch in amusement as law's eyes widen and he holds up his hands defensively.

"what? no! i would never ask that of you. it was never even mine, it was-", he interrupts himself when you break out into quiet laughter. a strained sigh escapes him.

"very funny", he deadpans.

"the look on your face", you chuckle. "you were panicking!"

"no, i wasn't", law lies while running a hand down his face, but you don't miss the way his mouth quirks up at the corners.

you can feel the tension drain out of the room a little bit as the two of you share the first minute that feels lighthearted ever since you sat down together. it's a lot nicer than you expected. you're not sure if that should scare you.

the moment dissolves when law clears his throat.

"would you like to come out to another show and take photos?"

his question takes you completely by surprise. "are you offering me a job?"

"kind of."

you watch his eyes drift from yours to the table and back to you.

"you don't have to say yes."

unsure of what to say, law's words circling around your head, you lean back in your chair. is that why he wanted to meet up with you? to hire you as his band's photographer?

it's not exactly like you would mind the extra cash. in all honesty, you could really use it, and a job as a concert photographer doesn't sound half bad. it just feels very random. why you? don't they have their own photographer? you've seen the pictures on their socials and you didn't exactly get the impression that they're in need of someone new.

on the other side, who cares? like hell you're going to turn down an offer to make money off of your passion. you've never taken concert photos before. it would be a great challenge to work on your skills. the lighting must be very different from what you usually work with.

with your best cheeky grin in place, you lift your chin up. "well, what's the pay?"

there's something that's almost a smile playing at law's lips when he realizes that you're accepting his offer.

"i'll have our manager text you the details."

he already has his phone out, when suddenly he looks back up at you.

"you don't mind if we use your photos for promotion, right?"

you shake your head distractedly, already considering which lenses would be best for concert lighting, when it hits you.

promotion. like on social media?

you internally cringe as you're hit with a flashback of your little accident from last week's stalking session. you had almost forgotten about that. should you mention it to him?

hesitantly, you glance up at law who's tapping away at his phone again texting his manager.

you really don't want him to think that you've been stalking him. or worse, that you're some kind of obsessed fangirl. maybe this is why he invited you to be their photographer? maybe he felt bad for you, because you used to be friends. god, that would be embarrassing.

you nip at your tea before clearing your throat.

"by the way", you shift in your seat uncomfortably as law finally looks up from his phone. "i wasn't stalking you or anything."

law eyes you quizzically.

"when i liked that photo of you last week", you awkwardly clarify, trying and absolutely failing to sound casual.

suddenly, the table seems very interesting.

"i was just curious to see what you've been up to, you know."

you move your eyes back up to law, who's face is completely devoid of any emotion. fuck, you thought it was awkward before, but this is definitely a new level.

"oh", law finally says, recognition flashing across his features. "i don't actually use our social media. that's not really my thing. ikkaku runs most of our accounts."

you feel relief wash over you as you slump back in your chair. so he didn't see you like his picture at one in the morning. thank god.

law smirks at you.

"but i'm glad you liked what you saw."

a/n: i know this is short, next chapter will be longer ૮ ྀིᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ྀིა also, this fic will be up on ao3 soon, i'm just travelling at the moment and i rarely have good wifi connection, so it might take another week or so <3

“Obviously it's __” Law just responds easily, saying your name, like he didn't even have to think.

“__?! But she's not even part of the main cast captain, she's turned up in like three comics!” Jean Bart protests, “Besides, wasn't Stealth Black your favourite captain?”

“You can have more than one favourite.” Law murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest, “Besides, __ was integral to poison pink and winch green getting out of the fight against the parasitic fog, without her, they would have died on that mission and we wouldn't have seen Sparkling Red's eyes”

"I- Alright fine, she is great, but still, she barely turns up” Shachi says as he adjusts his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Which sucks, we only have poison pink, that's a woman. Which edition does __ turn up in? I don’t think I've read that far yet” Ikkaku says.

“Edition 23, 32 and 45. You have to read them in a different order for that arc to make sense though. Start with edition 22, then 23, then you go read from 30 to 32 and then finish the arc in edition 45 before you start the sparkling red arc” Law explains and starts to gather up the editions in order for Ikkaku to read, he then hands them to her.

“Aww man, the sparkling red arc, we've still got to find the rest of those don't we captain?” Bepo frowns

“Yeah, we've searched the entire North Blue and there's no leads left there” Law mutters, slightly annoyed, it had been bugging him for ages. The sparkling red and the finale arc were the only arcs that the Heart Pirates were missing. There were old rumours of a your arc that Penguin had found but there were no real leads about that secret arc.

“Aren't we supposed to be cheering for Sora?” Penguin asks, but hes grinning.

“What? Hell no, the villains are so much cooler, especially Dengeki Blue, hes such an asshole” Ikkaku just responds and Law huffs a breath of amusement out from his nose as he lets a lazy grin tug at his lips.

“If they wanted us to root for the hero, then they shouldn't have made the villains so cool” Law simply says, “Besides, the villains are always better in stories”

“Hah! Can't argue with that!” Shachi grins, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

~☆~

☆ And then there was that day where Law's alliance with Strawhat Luffy and those time lost samurai had given him the greatest gift he'd seen after the battle in Dressrosa against Doflamingo. In return for Laws help with destroying the SMILE fruit factories and Doflamingo with Luffy?

☆ Momonoske had asked Kanjuro to use his devil fruit in order to create the rest of the Sora warrior of the sea comic line. But, Kanjuro had also seen your design on one of those covers and decided to paint you too, bringing you to life with his devil fruit,

☆ And Law just freezes as soon as he sees you burst out of the paper, because you’re exactly how he imagined, exactly how you were presented in the comics. But this time, you were real, your small mannerisms of how you stood werent static on paper anymore, no, you were real, down to the smallest details of your suit and weapons,

☆ You were actually real and Law didnt know what to do with himself, the other crew in the Heart Pirates were shocked but they were collecting the comics and so looking forward to reading them later to see how the story finally finished, a story that had taken years in order to finally get every edition

“Well aren't you a brooding type?~” You smile as you move up to Law, this one took your interest,

“I-i… __?” Law can't help but sputter your name out in shock, if there was a moment for a reclrd scratch sound effect it was now, his mind couldn't grasp that you were real, actually real. You, a character that he had barely seen any content of, the same one that plagued his mind and that he had theorised many things about and finally you were here that he could just ask you everything himself.

“You know my name? Are you one of Stealth Black’s allies?”

“Y-yeah..I am.”

Law says, he doesnt know what else to do, so he just agrees.

☆ Its a bit strange getting used to the fact that you're a fictional character in Law's world, its not like the guy obsessively knows everything about you because he literally can't, you're such a niche but very important character that people usually ignore in favour of the main five villains or Sora himself… But Law had found himself liking you a lot, your attacks, the way that you interacted with everyone and constantly had a rivalry with Dengeki Blue.

☆ And well, you find it a bit hard to adjust to the real world, but Law is there to help you, you joined his crew and quickly found your place.

"So you can tear out people's organs? Thats so cool, if we had you on the team then we'd be able to defeat Sora! He'd have no chance!"

☆ And Law would just kind of, short circuit as you'd ramble on about how cool his devil fruit is. He's done the exact same rambles about how cool your fighting style and abilities were to Bepo and Penguin, so hearing you do the same to him? Well, he just felt himself falling for you more.

"Are those...figurines?"

"Uhh, it's not what it looks like"

☆ Law moves over quickly to try and hide the figurines that he has of you and the Germa 66 squad, but you are already moving and you duck under his arm as you crouch and pick up the figurine that represents yourself,

"Woah, I didnt know i was this popular!"

"I....made that one, polymer clay and some acrylic paints" Law mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, you were a niche character after all, Law couldn't find any merchandise of you...so he resorted to making you himself,

"You made this?! It's so cool"

"I just...I dont think i did you enough justice with how pretty you are."

☆ And Law always grips the comics a bit tighter whenever you lean against his side and start to read with him, talking about your allies to him and letting him know exactly what each of them are like in your world,

“Oh, you should know” You just grin as you point at a panel on the comic, “Winch Green went into the wall here, his boosters malfunctioned and it caused them to charge him into the wall” You grin as you stayed lent against him,

☆ Law loves knowing things about you, your hobbies, he defintley tried to hide all of the sketches that he had about you in that old sketch pad that laid beside his theory book,

“Hey Captain, Did you draw these, these are really good” You just smile as you keep flicking through the pages of the sketchbook before Law coughs and takes the book from you, shutting it and placing it back into his drawer,

“Its just a few sketches” He’d mutter under his breath, he wasnt good with taking compliments and his cheeks were flushing slightly, "Besides...how can't I draw my muse?"

☆ Law had found himself drawing you ever since he saw you come out of that paper, he just…couldnt help it, you were his muse, a muse that had infested his mind and had never left, and now? Now it seems like you'll always stay his muse now that you were real, he still couldn't believe that you were on his crew,

2026 by Spark-Canon-Spark. Any and all works cannot be used, edited or republished without the creators permission!

“Not entirely convinced on the mind reading thing yet,” Franky commented. “Two hours in and you have the whole thing down perfectly.”

You smirked proudly and held out your bottle to him. He took it and popped the top off with an opener in his palm, handing it back. Sanji tapped a bottle opener against the bar and you turned back to him with a smile.

“You’re busy making a drink for Nami,” you defended yourself. “And Franky has one right in his hand.”

Franky grinned. “Got pretty much everything. Never know what you’re going to need.”

Sanji sighed dramatically and continued preparing Nami’s drink. If he had a voice, you felt very sure he would be mumbling something under his breath that would make you giggle. You enjoyed tormenting him sometimes.

Unfortunately, even if he’d tried to speak, it wouldn’t have been too useful.

It felt like only a few minutes ago that he’d given you a kiss, opened his mouth to offer something, and said absolutely nothing. Chopper confirmed it was probably a lingering side effect of some nonsense he’d breathed in on the last island you’d stopped at. It would wear off in a few hours.

Which naturally meant that you had become an impromptu translator until then.

And not a very good one at that. You knew what Sanji wanted to say – after so long at his side, it would be impossible not to – and for the most part, you got there eventually. The main difference was that you refused to make it sound quite right.

A hand grew from the ground, passing Robin’s bottle over so Franky could open it too before carrying it back to where she sat in the sun with a book resting against her knees.

“Robin, darling!” you called. “Can Sanji offer you an appetizer before lunch?”

She laughed to herself. “I’m quite alright, thank you.”

Sanji had had no intention of offering extra food but he still smiled at you fondly as he finished Nami’s drink. You had to be entertaining him, if not getting his words across. Even if that meant listening to you attempt to compliment the two women every time they appeared in your line of sight.

He placed it down next to her seat and you immediately turned to her, waiting for her thank you so you could offer the appropriate level of devotion.

“Anything for you, Nami! Your beauty is absolutely unmatched in this world!”

She laughed and blew a kiss to you that you made a show of catching and pressing to your heart.

“Aw, come on man, that wasn’t accurate,” Franky ribbed. “She blew you a kiss. Where’s the nosebleed? The fainting? You’ve got to commit to being your man fully if you’re going to do it.”

Sanji rolled his eyes as he walked past you, pausing briefly to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear affectionately.

You smiled up at him. “Thank you for whatever compliment you’re giving me mentally, right now,” you said. “I’m thinking it’s somewhere along the lines of me still being beautiful even if I did get a nosebleed.”

He shrugged as though it was good enough before he returned to the bar, grabbed a napkin, and quickly wrote something down. He held it out to you and you read the flattery with a warm smile.

“Aw, thank you love,” you said. “You’re too sweet.”

He gestured to the napkin and took a seat beside you on the chair. When you leaned in, he gave you a quick peck despite clearly trying to communicate something, then tapped the napkin again.

“I’ve read it,” you said.

He brushed a finger gently across your lower lip.

You sighed softly. “You want me to read it out? I don’t know if I can compliment myself for you, darling. I’d sound awfully arrogant.”

Franky lifted his sunglasses to look down at the napkin and nodded. “You would sound absolutely ridiculous saying that to yourself.”

“Maybe I can say it to Robin or Nami?” you offered.

Sanji pressed a hand dramatically to his heart as though you’d threatened to stab him through the chest. It was meant for you then.

You laughed. “Then, I’m sorry, love, but if you want to hear me say it aloud, you’re going to have to wait until you get your voice back, okay?”

Zoro scoffed, a sound that surprised you because you’d thought he was asleep this whole time.

“With any luck, that’ll be never.”

Sanji glared at him and then gestured for you to speak. You paused, considering what you could say that sounded appropriate before shrugging and sending a rude gesture in Zoro’s direction, which only made him frown.

Sanji’s expression said everything.

“I know you could have done that,” you said. “But I thought it got my point across. Oh, and Zoro?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck you.” You nodded to Sanji. “There, now I said it and showed it.”

Zoro blinked at you and then shrugged and took a swig from his bottle. “Fine,” he said. “Your voice is less grating at least.”

“I get right to the heart of the insult,” you said. “The point stands and no need for yelling.”

Sanji breathed out heavily and shook his head at you but the smile still lingered on his face so you took that to mean you weren’t entirely failing in your duties.

You gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I love you too.”

He nodded his approval and moved to get up when you caught his wrist. He stayed as you laced your fingers with his, an idea creeping into your mind.

“I think you should maybe take the rest of the day off to recover,” you suggested. “I can take over cooking today.”

He looked very offended at the suggestion, gesturing to his throat with his free hand as though asking what his lack of a voice had to do with cooking. The answer was honestly very little but it was fun that he couldn’t protest verbally.

“No, I understand,” you said. “You’re very tired. Maybe you can stay out here and I’ll go start preparing something right now.”

“Are we having more breakfast?” Luffy asked, his head turning away from his game with Usopp.

“No,” you answered sweetly. “But I’m going to cook lunch.”

Sanji’s expression was becoming more distressed by the second although pride briefly fluttered through when Luffy frowned.

“But I prefer Sanji’s cooking.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “Well, that’s just mean. Sanji’s letting me cook because he loves me.”

Sanji smiled and lowered his head, kissing the back of your hand in a way that was clearly meant to soothe your captain’s insult. His expression promised a thousand reassuring praises about how he enjoyed it when you cooked.

“As long as you appreciate me,” you said. “I think I’ll be alright.”

He nodded and gestured for you to say something, tapping the napkin and its sweet flattery again.

“I’m not complimenting myself verbally,” you insisted. “It’ll sound so embarrassing. Even if technically, it comes from you.”

“Give it here, I’ll read the thing,” Franky said. “Though as a warning, I’m going to have to edit it a little if it’s too mushy.”

Sanji shook his head and reached for the napkin and you purposefully leaned back in your seat, shuffling a little away to grab it and hold it out toward the clearly not-listening swordsman.

“You know who reads things very well?” you asked. “Zoro! Would you mind?”

Sanji lunged for the napkin with such immediate horror that his chair scraped against the deck. He caught your wrist before you could surrender it to Zoro, shaking his head with the frantic severity of a man preventing an international disaster.

Nami laughed openly while Robin lowered her book just enough to reveal the smile she was making no effort to hide as Sanji tried his hardest to ask you to stop tormenting him without being able to offer even one pleasantry to his request.

Zoro looked over. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I’m just using you to tease Sanji. He’s cute when he’s flustered.”

Zoro clicked his tongue, nose wrinkling in annoyance. “Then don’t.”

Sanji’s cheeks turned faintly pink at the compliment and mild frustration. He so badly wanted to counter you with praise of his own. You could practically see the flattery where it was stuck in his throat, desperate to escape. You even had an exact idea of what line he wanted to say to try and turn his embarrassment into lavish compliments.

You smiled and looked toward the other two women who were both still amused.

“I think Sanji’s meaning to tell you both that your laughs are more precious than any song,” you said sweetly.

Sanji sighed.

“I think we should make this a permanent thing,” Nami said. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

“I’ll run out of compliments to give eventually,” you warned her. “Then I’m just going to be telling you that you look nice fifty times a day.”

She shrugged. “That’s already what I hear whenever Sanji speaks so it isn’t too different.”

You snickered and Sanji huffed once, offended but still willing to forgive her for it on instinct alone. Of course.

“Don’t worry, I enjoy your poetry,” you promised, squeezing the hand that you were still holding. “But I’m no good at coming up with my own.”

He rolled his eyes and nodded to the napkin.

“Still not reading it aloud.”

He breathed out dramatically.

You didn’t end up getting to cook which, honestly, was a tragedy. Thanks to your announcement of your intentions, Sanji was already waiting for the moment you tried to sneak your way into the kitchen and he’d brought a chair in so you could sit without interfering.

Every time he caught you and gently led you away, you waited for the kiss and the whispered flattery and though you got the former… the latter stayed annoyingly out of your reach.

You found yourself becoming strangely nostalgic as the day drew on without any sweetened compliments or lovely names flitting your way. You were almost tempted to give in and put words behind his gestures though your pride still caught you before it happened. Worse, you knew even if you tried you would never say the words the same way he did.

You couldn’t imitate his gentle cadence and really, the words were meaningless without that.

You sat behind him in the kitchen with the sizzling pans and the steady stirring against a bowl and yet still found it eerily quiet. Quiet in a way you truly hated.

“Do you know what I don’t like?” you asked, mainly for something to break the quiet. “I can’t see what you’re doing from over here. So, I feel left out.”

Sanji’s shoulders raised in the same way they always did when he laughed though the sound didn’t follow. He moved the pan from the stove so you could see it, pointing with the spoon as he would normally do.

But without the explanation, it wasn’t nearly as fun.

“I’ve never realised how much you talk,” you said.

He gave you an unimpressed expression in response and you laughed, hurrying to clarify.

“No, no, I’m not complaining about it,” you assured. “I was missing it. I like hearing you speak.”

He stared at you fondly for a second too long before he smiled and went back to what he had been doing. The temptation to go and nag Chopper about how much longer this would take was only growing worse with the passing seconds.

You stood from your chair and ventured closer, staying out of his way the best you could, to watch him. He glanced at you and smiled, holding out his hand for a jar of spice at your elbow.

You handed it over, brushing your fingers against his own purposefully.

He smiled and nodded but without the flattering gratitude, you sighed. He squeezed your wrist tightly and though you knew what he was meaning, it didn’t make you feel better.

“No need to look so happy about it,” you said with a slight pout. “You’d miss hearing my voice too if I suddenly couldn’t talk.”

He nodded fervently in agreement and gestured in a way you took to mean something along the lines of losing your voice being a great tragedy inflicted on the world. It was nice. But it wasn’t quite right and your mouth still twisted in annoyance at it.

You continued to translate on occasion through the day but it wasn’t really needed. Everybody knew Sanji well enough that your help was very unimpactful.

And your mood sank more as he placed a plate in front of you, entirely different from everybody else’s.

One of your favourites. Clearly meant to be an apology for your disappointment.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you mumbled as you gave him an appreciative kiss. “But thank you.”

Luffy glanced toward your plate curiously and you waited until Sanji had stepped back into the kitchen to give him half of it. You didn’t have much of an appetite when you felt like this but luckily, you dined with a bottomless vacuum cleaner and never had to worry about anybody seeing when you hadn’t finished your meal.

Which, unsurprisingly, meant you woke at an ungodly hour of the morning with your stomach growling at you. You made your way into the kitchen with a yawn against the back of your hand.

Like this, you could appreciate the silence a little more.

It was supposed to be quiet when you were busy by yourself, borrowing one of the knives you’d been told a thousand times you could use, and making yourself something small enough to tide you over until breakfast. This quiet was comfortable.

Yet it still annoyed you purely because of how it had been earlier when it crept into spaces that should have been filled with flirting.

The doors swung open and you jumped for a second before you recognised Sanji’s silhouette and you smiled.

“Hello,” you greeted. “Do you have a sixth sense for when somebody walks into the kitchen?”

He smiled and yawned, but then he opened his mouth and spoke, his voice rough with disuse but audible. “I’m sorry, mon amour, I thought it was Luffy.”

“Oh?” you hummed, unable to stop the smile that spread over your face at the familiar sound of his voice. You turned around, abandoning your food to slip closer. “That’s a sound I’ve missed something terrible. Are you feeling better?”

“Much. I woke up and could speak again. I never thought it would be so difficult although you certainly tormented me for it, cherie.”

You laughed softly. “Aw, I did nothing. All that I’m guilty of is sharing your usual love with the others. And they were smiling more than usual so that’s a win.”

He huffed. “True but not being able to share the same love with you was torture. Far worse than if you’d abandoned speaking for me all together. I could spend every hour of the day praising you and still leave half your virtues unsaid.”

“I still knew what you were trying to say.”

“That’s not the same as hearing it,” he insisted.

You rested your arms over his shoulders and leaned up to kiss him softly. He smiled gently against your mouth, hands coming naturally to rest against your sides. No matter how many times you kissed him though, his cheeks always flushed slightly at the end.

“Were you hungry?” he asked when you moved away.

“Just a little,” you admitted. “But I didn’t want to wake you up for a midnight snack.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you could always wake me.”

“If I knew you’d have your voice back, I would have,” you said. “It’s such a lovely sound. Although I’m also grateful I don’t have to keep thinking of compliments. You’re more creative than I give you credit for. I ran out of orange things to compare to Nami’s hair after the first hour.”

He sighed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was authentic,” you insisted.

“No, it wasn’t because you wouldn’t say a word to yourself. Nami-san and Robin-chan are radiant, amour, but you’re the one who holds my heart. You’d need to acknowledge that first.”

You hummed teasingly. “Really? Because I thought I heard some very pretty words for them when I was reading your mind earlier.”

He shook his head but his smile remained humoured. “You came up with those ideas yourself.”

“Did I?”

Sanji chuckled and stepped back, catching your hand before it slid fully from his shoulder and lowering his head to kiss the back of it. “You must have. My love is for you and only you mademoiselle.”

His thumb moved slowly over your knuckles, and for once, neither of you rushed to turn the moment into a joke.

You smiled warmly at him. “That one sounds like it’s been waiting a few hours to be said.”

Something excited sparkled in his eyes at your words. “It definitely has and don’t worry, I’ve written down every single word I wanted to say to you yesterday. I fully intend to make sure you hear them at least twice to make up for the delay.”

Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase ; @chaeisrichnow ; @aceidentallyinlove ; @ilovedreming ; @moon-shampoo ; @charukii