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Summary
A cigarette trembled between Sanji’s lips.
He didn’t light it right away. It sat there, dry and waiting, like a question he wasn’t ready to answer. His fingers hovered near the flint, motionless. The lighter clicked once, twice, until finally the flame caught and the paper hissed to life, curling like a whisper. Smoke rose and the scent of burning tobacco filled the quiet night, too gentle for what was clawing inside him.
He didn’t drag. Didn’t need to. Just watching it burn was enough.
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sanji is spiralling and hiding away once again; ace pushes his way into the crevices of his heart.
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Luffy dreams. Sometimes he dreams his favorite dreams, filled with his crew eating the biggest of feasts or on crazy stupid (dangerous) adventures.
..But. Sometimes.
He dreams about Ace.
Luffy jumps up, heart beating a mile a minute, flailing his limbs, blanket flying away from his bunk. He clutches his chest. He's sweating. It's hot. Too hot. He feels an itch from everywhere. He rips off his shirt. Out. Leave. Go. Go. Get up. He stumbles away from the floor and reaches for his hat, shoving it onto his head haphazardly, poking himself in the eye with his finger in the process. His finger comes back wet.
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Or: Luffy has another nightmare about Marineford. Zoro finds him.

