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The plastic bags in your hand crinkled noisily as you struggled to grab the dorm key from your pocket. You were so caught up in your task that you didn't notice the man walking down the hallway approaching you.
"Ah, my lady! Let me help you with that!" You suddenly were on high alert, looking wide-eyed at the man stepping towards you. As soon as you saw who it was, you relaxed. It was just your neighbor across the hallway, Sanji. The two of you had spoken a couple times, but all you knew about him was that he was in the culinary program and had lots of friends over every week. He seemed nice enough besides the over-the-top flirting.
"Oh no, you really don't have to—" you started, only to get cut off by Sanji.
"No no, a delicate lady such as yourself shouldn't have to carry so much!" He gently took the bags from your hands, smile never leaving his face. It was a little off-putting, but you were grateful for the help. After fishing through your pocket to retrieve your key, you finally unlocked your door and stepped inside.
"You can put them over there," you said, gesturing to the nearby kitchen counter. Within two steps Sanji was already there (he had extraordinarily long legs!), and lightly set the bags down. In the process of setting the bags down however, a certain flashy packaging caught his eye. Sanji bit his lip in thought. He had no right to rummage through the groceries of a lady such as yourself! However, he felt like it was his duty as a chef to make sure you ate well...
Meanwhile, you were still in the doorway of your apartment wondering when Sanji was going to stop staring into your grocery bags and get out.
"Um...Sanji?" You called out, finally getting his attention. His head instantly perked up.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Is everything okay?"
"Oh, of course! I just couldn't help but notice the—"
"Instant soups and ramen? Yeah, it's a little embarrassing..." As you shut the door and stepped inside, you found yourself looking down in embarrassment. You weren't expecting anyone else to see the wide array of junk foods you purchased.
"Not to mention high in sodium! One has to eat healthy to stay healthy, you know!" His exclamation made your head perk up, and you immediately found yourself lost in Sanji's gaze and the pure passion pouring out of it. He seemed so different and full of life in that moment, creating a stark contrast with you, the worn-out girl who worked herself down to the bone just so she could live comfortably. Finally remembering Sanji had spoken, you spoke.
"Y-Yeah, it's just really hard sometimes...I get home late most days and I'm just so exhausted I can barely get to my bed without falling over."
"Let me help then!" Sanji had rushed to your side, taking your hands in his. "I'd be more than happy to make dinners for you!" You felt your face heat up and the enormous amount of attention given to you.
"N-No! I couldn't ask you to do that, I'm sure you're busy—"
"Please? A lady such as yourself deserves to eat well." You found yourself lost in Sanji's expression once again. The way he tenderly held your hand combined with the genuine look of concern on his face became too much for you.
"...Oh, alright." The smile that grew on Sanji's face outshone the sun, and he could barely contain his excitement.
"Wonderful! I'll stop by tomorrow night with your dinner!" He joyfully scurried away, and you suddenly noticed how quiet it was without him. With a sigh, you trudged to the counter and fished through the white plastic bags to decide on which ramen flavor you'd have tonight.
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Stepping into your dorm, you immediately groaned and flopped down on the nearby bed. Another long day of classes and work for you. Just as you were starting to doze off, a knock at the door jolted you out of your stupor.
"Coming!" You huffed, thinking to yourself, "Who the hell is knocking on my door?" Once you opened it, however, you remembered the events of the previous night. Sanji stood at your door, plate of food in hand, grin spread across his face.
"Your dinner, my lady," he spoke. "Parmesan chicken pasta topped with spinach and a side of Caesar salad." A small smile grew on your face. As you took the plate, you said,
"Thank you, Sanji." Just as you were about to retreat into your dorm, you looked at him one more time. He was about to turn on his heel and head back to his own dorm, thrilled that you had accepted his food. "Hey, Sanji, you wanna come in? You can bring your own dinner over if you haven't eaten yet."
"Of course!" He called to you before scurrying into his dorm to get his meal. Just as you finished setting your small dining table, Sanji was at your door again. Letting him inside, you directed him to the table, and he settled himself in. Finally getting a good look at your food, you were in awe at how beautiful it looked. There were no stray specks of food anywhere on the pristine plate, and the food was perfectly sectioned.
"This looks like it came straight from a five-star restaurant, oh my gosh!" You exclaimed. Sanji swelled with pride at your compliment, feeling a sense of recognition for all of the hard work he put into making it. "I guess that's what happens when you're a professional chef, though, huh?" You joked, taking a bite. It felt as you had been sent to heaven and back, and barely heard what Sanji said next.
"I'm not a professional chef quite yet," he began. "I still have a lot of training to get through first."
"You can't be serious! With food this good, I would have thought you were the owner of a multimillion-dollar restaurant in France or something!" Watching you gush over his food made Sanji laugh a bit at your antics, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile.
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And so, the days went by. Every night, Sanji would bring by a hot (nutritionally balanced) meal for you with a smile on his face. Every night, you would share a meal with him and bond over the amazing food. Every night, you found yourself falling further and further in love with the handsome blond. Your conversations with him always felt so natural and effortless, no matter what the topic was. His passion and energy had also seemed to rub off on you, and you found yourself more refreshed and confident than in the weeks prior to your dinners with Sanji.
Late one morning on a rare day off, you shuffled to your kitchen and stared into your fridge.
"You know what?" You mumbled to yourself. "I need to start making my own dinners." Sanji had enough to worry about, especially with all of his extensive culinary training. He didn't need to come home after a long day just to cook for you. With a sudden jolt of determination, you decided to go to the store and buy the necessary ingredients for the upcoming week's meals. Once you got to the store and bought your needed ingredients, you strode confidently past the instant foods you used to rely on. Those days were gone—you were living a healthier, happier life.
However, one thing had caught your eye. Backtracking to make sure you saw what you saw, you nearly dropped your shopping basket.
"Sanji?" There in the middle of the aisle was Sanji, donning an uncharacteristically baggy hoodie, sweatpants, and flip flops. His basket was filled with the instant foods he had once scolded you over purchasing.
Upon hearing his name, Sanji instinctively looked up, allowing you to get a clear view of his face. You gasped a bit. He looked like hell, with his normally perfectly styled hair sticking up in all directions from under his hood as well as the addition of eyebags to his pale skin. He looked nervously in the opposite direction, trying to pretend that he didn't see you. You rushed to his side, concern tugging your eyebrows together. Softly, you asked what was wrong. He looked away again.
"Nothing—"
"Bullshit." Your sudden fierceness startled Sanji, evident when he met your stare. His eyes were glazed and dull, nothing like the vibrant blue that they normally were. Not that you'd learned their color by getting lost in them. That'd be weird. "Once you put all that stuff back, you're coming with me." Reluctantly doing as he was told, Sanji put the numerous junk foods from his basket back into the shelves. Dragging Sanji by the wrist, you bought your groceries and began walking back to your apartment. The journey was silent, the only sound being Sanji's flip flops hitting his heels as he walked behind you. When you opened your door, you instructed Sanji to sit down on the couch.
"I'm making you lunch, whether you want me to or not." Sanji didn't answer and continued to stare off into space. Doing your best to remember what you had seen Sanji do, you cooked yourself lunch for the two of you. Sanji finally snapped out of his trance once you set the plate down on the coffee table in front of him. Steam drifted up from the pasta, helping to bring the scent of the alfredo up to Sanji's nose. The tantalizing scent made his stomach involuntarily growl, eliciting a soft chuckle from you. Looking up from his plate, he saw you, a subtle smile playing on your lips.
"Go ahead, eat up." You didn't need to tell him twice. Unlike the rest of the times you'd seen him eat, Sanji gobbled the food up, finishing much faster than you had. "Do you want seconds?" Shyly, he nodded and watched you grab his plate to get more for him. He felt so guilty, making you cook for him instead of enjoying your day off. Your happiness had grown to mean so much to him, and burdening you with his problems was the last thing he wanted to do. Once you brought his seconds and settled onto the couch next to Sanji, your mouth formed a thin line.
"Do you want to talk about it?" A pause. "It's okay if you don't, but I want to help you in any way I can, Sanji, even if it's just by listening." Sanji felt his eyes water as he heard you voice your concern for him.
"You remember my friend Zoro, right?" Sanji began slowly. Sanji calling Zoro a friend piqued your interest. Whenever Sanji mentioned him before it was usually followed by a quick insult or jab at him. Hearing Sanji refer to Zoro as a friend was certainly something new.
"He's the swordsman working at the bar downtown, right?"
"Yeah." The blonde paused, shakily taking in a breath of air, trying not to choke on his next sentence. "He, um...recently lost an eye in a freak accident." When Sanji looked to you, your face had a look of pure shock and concern. You stumbled on your words for a bit before finally saying,
"I-Is he alright?"
"He's still unconscious..." Sanji said, fidgeting with the hem of his raggedy sweatshirt as he tried to remember what the doctors had told him while he was in his foggy state of disbelief. "The doctors operated on him already, and they said he'll be awake when his body has healed itself enough." Sanji sniffled as he remembered Zoro lying limp and lifeless in the hospital bed, the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor being the only indication that he was alive. He was quickly taken from his thoughts as he felt your arms wrap around him in a hug.
"Thank you for telling me what's wrong. I can't begin to imagine what you're feeling right now, but I just want to let you know I'm with you every step of the way. You've taken care of me for so long, it's about time I do something for you." Sanji let out a sob, finally letting the tears fall down his face. You whispered words of comfort to him and rubbed his back up and down as he cried into your shoulder. His grip on your sweatshirt was tight, as if he were afraid you'd leave him too. You didn't know how long you'd stayed on the couch, hugging Sanji as he wept for his dear friend. Once his tears dried and sobs turned to mere sniffles, he slowly leaned back, no longer in your embrace. Sanji nervously kneaded bits of his sweatshirt in between his fingers, eyes remaining downcast and focused on avoiding looking directly at you.
"I'm sorry," he weakly called out. "I got your sweatshirt all wet..."
"Hey, don't worry about it..." Your attempt to reassure Sanji fell flat as you saw his tense behavior continue. "Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?" He nodded, slowly at first, and then more sure of himself.
"I—I'm just so scared. I didn't always agree with him but...I still trust and respect Zoro so much," Sanji said. "The fact that I might not get to tell him that—"
"You will," you said, voice firm. "I may not know him, but from what you've told me, Zoro is unbelievably strong." You gently grabbed one of Sanji's hands. "Zoro is gonna wake up and you can tell him yourself." A hint of a smirk flashed across Sanji's face.
"I think if I told him that, he'd ask why he was in the hospital and not me." You giggled, making Sanji truly smile for the first time that day. Seeing him finally happy made your heart flutter and your stomach flip-flop, and you had to restrain yourself from engulfing Sanji back into a tight hug. "Thank you...for listening..."
"Any time." You gently rubbed your thumb in circles across the back of Sanji's hand and he subtlety relaxed, the tension and stress leaving his body.
"Hey," you said after a few moments of silence. Sanji perked his head up to meet your gaze. "Wanna bake a cake?" Another smile had graced your lips and Sanji was once again reminded of your compassion and generosity. A grin of his own bloomed on his face as he gave his response.
"That sounds wonderful."