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Whipping the bamboo sword so hard the material creaked, frustration etched each movement the green-haired boy made. Zoro had experienced utter defeat at the hands of Hawkeye and today’s training session was his outlet. Perspiration dotted his forehead as he pushed his body to the limit – if not further. Knowing the young swordsman Perona would say the latter because she had witnessed his foolish fits of anger before.
He didn’t know when to stop.
Addicted to the feeling of hard work and adrenaline she supposed, not being a fitness freak herself. She’d prefer to put her feet up and drown her sorrows with a bowl of strawberry shortcake ice-cream. That was cuter than the smell of sweat and oxidising metal that accompanied the weight training Zoro chose.
Yet she still spent time in the kendo hall watching Hawkeye and Zoro when she wasn’t at the spooks club with Moria and Absalom. She felt strangely at home exchanging insults and chagrin. The brooding swordsman seemed to accept her regular visits as a norm. Her relationship with Zoro was peculiar. Sometimes they were at each other’s throats, his brutish attitude and ability to get lost in a one-way street tried her patience.
“Hah!” Startled Perona’s gaze jumped to the person occupying her thoughts. Tension making the harsh lines of his shoulders hunched forward, his perfect form wavering due to fatigue. It had been three hours of rigorous kata exorcises. Typical Zoro not acknowledging his limits - but this time was different. The injury had the potential to impact on his performance for months. She wasn’t an expert, but she knew that.
“Zoro.” She said, firm and non-compromising. Perona had never been a girl who settled for being ignored.
“It’s none of your business.” Biting and brutal to the point she could sense his teeth grinding as his jaw clenched. Heart pounding in response to the blatant dismissal, her own temper flared. No one spoke to her like shit.
“Excuse me?” It wasn’t said as a question. It was a declaration of impending war. If he wanted to throw down, then she wouldn’t disappoint. Springing forward from her perch on the bench, she marched toward the glowering idiot.
“You are a rude obnoxious jerk Roronoa!” Stopping only when she made sure to purposefully invade his space. Toe to toe and her finger jabbed firmly in his thorax. She wanted her entire body to scream ‘fuck you’.
“Tch,” Upper lip pulling upwards into a snarl, he avoided her glare by staring to the side. The bastard was still trying to ignore her. Not happening. Shuffling sideways she stood on her tiptoes to stare him dead in the eye. “…annoying woman.”
Brow furrowing, she leaned further into his space so her nose almost touched his chin. Why did he have to be so tall? It ruined the effect.
“Me? Annoying?” Perona spat, noticing how he visibly winced at the high octaves, “That’s rich coming from ‘Mr. I’d be late to my own funeral’”.
“At least my laugh doesn’t sound like a dying cat.” Zoro shot back quick as usual. He didn’t usually resort to such childish arguments with anyone - the perverted cook didn't count. That dickhead disserved every slur apparently. Perona knew how to push his buttons as well as the blond. His attack didn’t put her off, in fact, excitement pulsed beneath her diaphragm. Not thinking she lunged placing both hands on his chest and used her body weight to push. Chuckling she watched the muscle head stumble as he lost his footing for a moment.
She couldn’t help but feel accomplishment in catching him off-guard even if it didn’t push him back. Zoro trained daily in martial arts and toned his core strength to the point she had seen him doing one-arm handstands. Honestly, the impact of her palms on his chest felt solid - a living bronze statue.
Calloused fingers formed a vice grip on her dainty hand, the pressure enough to hold her in place.
Perona hyper-aware of her throbbing pulse, her wrist gripped by his strong fingers, a large knot settled in her throat. A dangerous glint glazed Zoro’s eyes but she didn’t fear him. Perusing the features of her long-time friend she noticed his full bottom lip twitching. He tended to chew his bottom lip when hassled and the action diverted her attention.
It’s no secret Zoro is a good-looking boy – now a young man. Classically attractive features combined with the exotic allure of seafoam green hair made him a heartthrob. But most of the time people admired him from afar, a treasure you could see but not touch. The man had a demeanour that demanded respect and a not so subtle ‘fuck outta here’ vibe if you managed to piss him off.
Perona and the select few allowed into his inner circle knew another side. A kind and honourable man. And the biggest dork she’d ever met.
“Oi, stop staring.” Damn. She’d spaced out again…whilst eye fucking. Zoro didn’t need to know that.
“I would if you stopped being so cute.” Unless she opened her own stupid mouth. She had meant to say UN-cute. N-O-T cute.
Because he wasn’t. At all.
“Cute?” He tried the word as if sucking on a sour treat. If she wasn’t so mortified the comical look that emerged - a cross between emotional constipation and disgust - would have triggered laughter.
The silence made her want to die or drop through the floor. Whatever happened quicker.
“I knew that’d pull out the stick that’s currently lodged up your ass.” She said, smiling sweetly. Tone sweet as honeycomb, dripping with the challenge. Time to save face.
Zoro leaned forward taking back the space she’d managed to steal. Squinting in thought his usual persona returned, it wasn’t the tense energy from before. Instead, it was a captivating focus that drew her in closer. He’d always had an ability to control the mood. It seriously rubbed her the wrong way. Perona would spend an hour iterating how she felt on a topic and he’d manage with a single sentence. Sometimes a grunt, yet she’d understand.
Right now, she understood the atmosphere around them. Intense, sexy and one hundred percent Zoro. Subconsciously placing a hand on his chest, she traced the seam of his keikogi. Keeping eye contact as she travelled to his neck, fingers brushing the soft skin in the conjunction of his neck. Zoro swallowed and once again she found herself admiring his lips. His nose brushed hers as he exhaled the brief contact titillating her nerve endings. Perona wanted more from him.
“Kiss me.” She sighed, her own lips brushing against his chin. Once again it wasn’t a question but a breathy demand. Her breath jittered as she felt his thumb stroke over her lips as if silencing the gibberish likely to explode from her mouth if he didn’t hurry up. True to form he read her well and the cocky smirk told her he hadn’t bought her excuse from the beginning.
“You always have to make things personal,” Zoro said, voice gravelly and taking her mind to a place that wasn’t appropriate for a gym hall. Head dipping, he hovered for a second, mirth dancing in his eyes. Fed up with his teasing she shifted to aim a well-deserved kick in the shin when he nipped at the corner of her mouth. Perona felt her mouth pop with an embarrassing gush that resulted from the attention.
He moved in quick precision, making her feel like the hunter became the hunted, enveloping her bottom lip into his mouth. Still holding her hand, he tugged sharply, and she found herself being melded into the masculine presence that was Roronoa Zoro. She felt a large hand splay across the small of her back, pushing her flush to his torso. Clearly, he didn’t want any space between them.
Peppering wet kisses over her top lip she felt him raise their joined hands. Pushing her palm flat against his jawline he broke away to lay a kiss on her palm. Aegean blue eyes gazed at her under a thick hood of gorgeous eyelashes. Honestly, Perona hated the fact that he was such a pretty boy and she had a weakness for anything cute.
Impatient she used the hand to forcefully turn his head, whilst the other slid into his green strands gripping what she could. Lips now a supple pink she nuzzled his nose before capturing his lips in an audacious move. Eyes closing, she took in the sensations of his tongue sliding over the seam of her lips, the warmth of his breath on her cheek and how soft his hair felt.
“AH-em.” Freezing at the deliberate interruption, Zoro’s arms locked around her waist in surprise. Her eyes shot open to see her partners face resembling the tragedy mask they often see in her drama study classes. Rose started to bleed onto his cheeks and coat the tips of his ears. It was too cute to stop an awkward giggle escaping.
“Tch.” Zoro and his typical sulk sound. He refused to look at her or his intruding teacher in the eye. Looking over his shoulder she spotted Mihawk standing in the doorframe across the room. Arms folded and his expression screaming annoyance. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth said he had expected this.
“Roronoa, this is not your bedroom. Take it elsewhere.”
Tinkling laughter filled the hall as Perona grabbed Zoro’s hand. It’d be her pleasure to whisk the wayward swordsman somewhere private.