#cause same

just imagining a modern au where sanji nurses zoro back to health after he looses his eye

You’ve started to bring them coffee for their meetings. The puffy rings under their eyes noticeable. Your hands nearly shake when you bring him a cup for the first time. Sitting at your desk feels easier and less heavy now that you’ve gone and approached him successfully, even if he’s not moving to actually take a drink. You feel accomplished, like a little kid brave enough to go and check for monsters all by themselves instead of asking an adult to do it for them. You have to stifle a laugh with a cough at how comically small the little styrofoam cup looks in his massive hand. Almost like a child’s toy teacup. He takes his coffee black. You’ve only seen him drink a sip or two in the several times they’ve been here over the last few months. But he’s never reached for the creamer or sugar you always leave on the chair next to him. He’s started to nod at you when you hand him the cup. When his finger tips had brushed yours the last time you handed him his cup it had felt like a spark. You’d almost said sorry to him for touching him, it was so unexpected. His fingers had been warm though. Warm and slightly rough with callouses. Winter was the worst. With the end of the year looming the workload you and everyone else were expected to complete become more and more. Your poor wrists were taking the brunt of it. The ache was getting harder and harder to ignore, and lifting them to stretch or rub at the aching muscles was only getting you so far. Still the reports, spread sheets, and now frequent coffee runs didn’t let up. The 141 had been here for nearly 2 weeks now. Meeting with Kate and god knows how many other people all over base. The lieutenant’s stare hadn’t even registered in your frazzled brain as you tried to survive these damned reports. He’s never approached your desk before today. Never even come close to stepping behind it. But today he’s leaning over your chair, nearly touching you. His body heat is radiating out warming you quicker than the ancient central heating in this building could ever dream of. With a grumbled “can’t sit ‘ere watching ya break yer wrists luv” he placed a wrist rest by your keyboard. His face is so close when you turn. You’re close enough to see the brown of his eyes, and that they’re crinkled a bit like he’s amused at your warming cheeks. They’re deeper than you’d ever glimpsed in your periphery, but they’re so very warm.