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The night had yet to give way to morning when Brook stirred from his slumber. Even now, a half century following his first death, his body continued to wake him before the sunrise. As he blearily stared at the ceiling above his bunk, the fog of sleep slowly clearing, he reminded himself of where he was.
He was not upon the ship which had been the heart of some of his happiest memories, helplessly watching as his closest companions became sicker and sicker. He was not lost at sea in the endless night, aimlessly drifting upon the cemetery that had once been his home. He was not trapped within a cage, put on display like the prized specimen at a freak show.
No, he was home. He was home with his family and the sun was coming up soon.
He could hear Luffy’s snoring from the top bunk across from him, his rubbery limbs hanging over the edges of the mattress as he slept sideways. He could see Usopp resting soundly in the bed just beneath their captain’s, an open sketchbook in his lap and a stray line across the page indicating he had dozed off while drawing. Faintly, he could smell something cooking and knew that Sanji was already awake and preparing for breakfast.
Sitting up in his too-small bunk, Brook stretched out his too-long limbs, a yawn escaping him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he readily stepped down from the top bunk to the floor, intent on beginning his favorite part of the day. Chasing away the last of the shadows from his recurring nightmares with memories of music, he carefully considered which songs he would play to wake his crew.
After dressing and cleaning himself in preparation for the day, he collected his violin before stepping out of the men’s dorm and onto the soft grass of the lawn deck. Hearing quiet footsteps above, he looked upwards towards the fore of the ship and spotted Robin. A sleeping Chopper rested comfortably in her arms as she walked from port to starboard, the young reindeer clearly having dozed off while the two held watch overnight. He greeted her contented smile with a wave before she turned her attention back to scanning the sea for interlopers on their peaceful morning.
Dozing just a stone’s throw away sat Jinbe, their helmsman appearing to have made himself a bit too comfortable in his favored chair. He slept soundly at the helm, a blanket - undoubtedly courtesy of Robin - affectionately tucked around his shoulders.
Looking to the opposite end of the ship, Brook found Nami keeping watch upon the observation deck. It appeared that she had taken it upon herself to assist Robin by filling in for their sleeping doctor, their navigator leaning against the railing and gazing out at the sea. Glancing at the windows of the library behind her, he happened to notice a dim, flickering light within and suspected he knew where one of their crewmates had decided to sleep once again.
Ascending the stairs towards the stern, he could hear Franky’s familiar snores from downstairs in his workshop and knew their shipwright had dozed off while working on his projects once again. Following the pleasant scent of roasting coffee, he pushed open the door into the warm kitchen and found Sanji preparing ingredients.
Without even looking up from the sink where their cook diligently washed a collection of fresh vegetables, he greeted, “Morning, Brook.”
“And a good morning to you as well,” he returned politely, closing the door to preserve the warmth of the room.
“Looks like she passed out in the library again,” he informed, already anticipating the question he was about to receive regarding their final missing crewmate.
“Seeing right through me once again. Although, I suppose that only makes sense, considering I am a skeleton!” Brook joked with a cheery laugh, earning a weary sigh in response.
“You’re going to exhaust her with your terrible jokes,” Sanji scolded, looking up from his task to level him with a dry look.
“She loves my jokes,” he asserted with amusement in his voice, knowing full well that their companion adored his sense of humor.
Shaking his head in exasperation, the cook moved the freshly washed vegetables to the cutting board to resume his preparation. Choosing to neither confirm nor deny Brook’s assertion, he instead decided to redirect.
“Well, after you wake her, be sure to tell her that I’m preparing a breakfast crafted for a goddess,” he informed, his pinched expression immediately softening into an dreamy smile as he swooned, “Women as lovely as my sweet angel, my darling Robin, and my precious Nami-Swan deserve nothing but the perfect meals to maintain their beauty, after all!”
“Ah, what a treat! I look forward to a delicious meal,” Brook jested as he climbed the ladder to the observation deck.
“It’s not for you!” Sanji shot back, grumbling as he began chopping.
Opening the hatch to the observation deck, Brook was immediately met by Nami’s curious gaze. The navigator greeted him with a smile and a little wave which he returned as he stepped off of the ladder and onto the upper deck.
“Good morning,” Nami greeted before knowingly adding, “She fell asleep in the library again.”
“I do not know whether to be pleased or concerned that everyone seems to anticipate my questions this morning,” he pondered with no real worry in his tone as he closed the hatch behind him.
“It’s not hard to guess when she’s the first person you beeline for every morning,” she answered with an amused look.
Pausing to think about Nami’s comment, Brook joined her to look out at the skyline. The rising sun cast a warm glow along the horizon, painting the dawn sky in brilliant shades of purple and orange. The radiant light had just barely begun to crest the distant border between sea and sky, slowly chasing away the swath of stars still glimmering overhead.
He was grateful for another day where he could greet the morning sun. Or, perhaps more specifically, he was excited for another day where he could share the dawn with the woman who had become a light to him as much as the rising sun. The woman who peacefully slept in the library not even a stone’s throw away.
“Well, no need to break from tradition,” Brook decided with a sagely nod, making his companion laugh.
“Somehow, I think she’d agree,” Nami commented with a tone of bemusement, puzzled but happy for both of her eccentric crewmates. “Play something relaxed, would you? She was up pretty late.”
“I will do just that. I do believe I have the perfect song in mind,” he hummed happily before walking across the observation deck towards the aft of the ship.
Missing the knowing smile on Nami’s face as her attention returned to the sea, Brook opened the door to the library and stepped inside. Gently closing the door behind him, he was not surprised to see a familiar bundle of blankets curled up on the cushioned bench inside. While the seating area spanned along the entire perimeter of the circular room, the woman hidden beneath the blankets always chose the same section of couch to make her impromptu bed upon nearly every night.
A half dozen books were scattered around her, open and bookmarked to various pages. Two notebooks filled with her messy handwriting and interspersed with doodles and sketches sat amongst the mess of paper, the chaos further dotted with a handful of pens and pencils. A warm feeling rose up in his empty chest as he stepped closer, leaning down to gather up the pencils that had been lured away from her sanctuary by the rocking of the waves.
Returning the writing instruments to her pile of books, Brook attempted to peek at the object of his affection but found her hidden beneath the mess of blankets. Already running through the songs she liked in his mind, he settled upon the exact tune he wanted to use to wake his sleeping beauty from her slumber.
After all, more than he wanted to see the rising sun, he wanted to see the smiling face of the woman he had fallen in love with.
Resting his violin on his shoulder, he tilted his head to perch his chin upon the rest. Pressing his fingertips against the fingerboard to form the first note, he expertly pulled his bow across the strings. The song began soft and slow but gradually picked up the pace, the notes weaving together into an upbeat yet delicate melody. This particular piece was a love song from well before his own time, a tender ballad he secretly only played for her.
As he began to play in earnest, he noticed the blankets beginning to stir, and felt his absent heart stir in response.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Brook greeted in a bright voice, inching a bit closer to try to peek at the face of his beloved emerging from the layers of quilts and comforters.
When he was instead greeted with a tiny whine emerging from beneath the bedding, he nearly lost his place in the song. Forcing himself to focus on the song and to not let himself be completely disarmed by the discontented sound, he was unable to deny the thought that she was just so cute.
The precious noises that slipped free from her when she first awakened were soothing to his soul, the tiny sounds reminding him of the gentle cooing of a mourning dove. It was only fitting that her sweet-toned murmurs would remind him of the delicate songbird when they came from within a veritable nest of blankets.
“The sun is rising, little dove,” Brook hummed happily, a soft chuckle rising up at the dissatisfied sounds muffled by her many comforters, “It is time for you to rise as well.”
Continuing his song, he was met with her quiet, nonsensical babbles then silence. Brimming with delight, he harmonized his voice with the notes of his violin, smoothly swaying to the leisurely pacing of the secret lovesong.
As he transitioned into the exposition of the melody, he spoke again. “Come, now, it’s time to meet the day.”
“Brooook,” she muttered, her coaxing tone more befitting a sleepy lover beckoning their darling back to bed. Hearing her unintentionally calling out his name in such a way derailed his thoughts and he caught himself repeating the same handful of notes on his violin several times as his imagination drifted away.
“It-it’s morning! Let us take on the day!” he attempted, stuttering his speech as well as his song as his attention snapped back to the moment at hand. Having lost his place in the melody, he quickly improvised a bridge into the final stanza of the exposition.
“One more hour, pleeease,” she tried to bargain, finally peeking out from beneath her covers to look up at him with sleepy eyes.
“Ah, there she is,” Brook breathed happily, his restless energy washed away by the contentment that always rose when he met her gaze. “Good morning, little dove.”
When she responded not with her words but by reaching her hand out to him, he tilted his head in confusion. Hesitantly obeying and inching closer, the tempo of his song unintentionally slowed.
“Um, yes, miss?” he politely questioned, unsure of her intentions and even more unsure if he was interpreting her correctly. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his precious crewmate uncomfortable in the home they shared…
Carefully navigating the mess of books and papers around her, he finally stepped close enough for her to touch. When her fingertips skimmed across his thigh, she blindly grasped the fabric of his pants, making him shiver.
“C’mere…” she grumbled as she pulled him closer, his song immediately drifting off into silence. When she scooted over, making room for him in her already small sleeping area, it felt as if his head began to spin.
“You want me to-?!” Brook floundered as she drew him closer, his song completely forgotten, “A-are you quite certain?”
“Mhmm,” she yawned, only releasing him so she could pull back the covers, “Too early, let’s go back to sleep.”
Hesitating for a few long moments, he played her words over and over in his head, unsure if he had heard her correctly. There was certainly no way that she was actually inviting him into her bed… right? Was he the one still dreaming?
Even as Brook paused next to her, her words on a loop in his mind, his gaze lingered on the open spot in the cushions next to her with a heavy longing - the spot she had pulled her blankets away from so she could offer it to him. Dissatisfied with his delay, she sleepily pawed for him once again, this time grasping his hand and encouraging him closer. As impossible as such a thing was supposed to be, he could feel his face burning as he followed, setting his instrument next to her books as if it was nothing but an afterthought.
Cautiously sliding onto the couch next to her, some part of him expected her to fully awaken and kick him off. Tossing her blanket over the both of them, he initially tensed as she cuddled up against him, very nearly lying on top of him so they both had room in the tiny space. Looping her arms around his neck, she nestled against his boa, settling against him with a contented sigh.
“Ahh - am I, um… I mean, are you comfortable?” Brook fretted as she made herself at home against his skeletal frame, his hands frozen at his sides as he floundered for words.
More than anything, he worried that she would be bothered by how there was no cushion or warmth to his body. He could not imagine that he was particularly comfortable to cuddle with and the thought of the woman he loved being in any way distressed by his presence made his anxiety flare. A restless weight in his chest that was soothed by the gentle hum of satisfaction from the woman nestled against him.
“Mmm,” she breathed in the affirmative, tilting her head to hide a yawn against his chest.
“Are you certain? I know that I...” he started before sighing sadly, “I cannot imagine that I am pleasant to embrace.”
“You are,” she answered without even a moment of hesitation, nuzzling that much closer as if to prove her point.
“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” Brook muttered, confused by her answer and distracted by the feeling of her warm breath against his neck.
“You feel like…” she began, pausing for so long he wondered if she had dozed off, before sleepily whispering, “...home.”
She returned to her dreams as if he was the most comfortable pillow in the world - as if she had not spoken something profoundly romantic to the man who was so completely and irrevocably in love with her. For a single exhilarating moment, Brook was certain that his heart had returned and was pounding in his chest. A moment that was immediately followed by gratefulness that it had not because its beating would surely keep her awake.
Home… He felt like home to her?
Lying in their shared bed, his body finally began to relax even as his thoughts continued to race. Replaying every moment of their conversation - every brush of her hands against his bones, every tenderly spoken word of comfort, every contented sigh from his little dove - he felt as an impossible kind of hope began to well up inside of him.
Despite all of the tragedy that stained his past like spilled ink, he had still been able to turn the pages to the future. Despite everything he had lost, he still found so much joy and purpose in his life. He had a home, he had a family, he had a dream. Perhaps it wasn’t so ridiculous to hope that maybe, just maybe… he might find love with her.
Huffing out a quiet laugh at his hopeless romanticism, Brook chose to allow himself the indulgence. Looping his arms around her, perhaps a bit selfishly, he pulled the woman he loved that little bit closer. Deciding he would truly bask in this moment with her, he focused on engraving this memory upon his soul to enjoy for the rest of his days.
He never wanted to forget the warmth of her small body and how she fit against him so perfectly he wondered if his bones were shaped to hold her; the smell of her soaps against her skin and how it made his head feel fuzzy; the sound of her breathing and the melody of her heartbeat as she peacefully slept in his embrace.
Holding her like this, he could almost pretend like she was his darling. Nuzzling the top of her head, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fantasize - to daydream that they were together and in love. That they had dozed off while nestled together reading the night before. That he had simply woken up before her and was happy to let her sleep in. That she would soon awaken and kiss him good morning before telling him about her dreams.
Brook’s mind caught on the fuzzy details of how she would kiss him, his fears latching onto that uncertainty like a loose thread. His thoughts began to spiral as he attempted to work out the logistics of how a romance between them would actually work, his worries rapidly darkening his mood. His doubt gave rise to an anxiety which tangled like a spiderweb within his ribcage, the sudden restlessness making this moment feel somehow wrong.
As if sensing this rising unease building within him, his beloved began to stir, her hand sleepily searching through the blankets. When he felt her small palm press against his, her fingers lacing through his own, his breath caught in his chest. As if satisfied with the contact, she murmured something against his neck before returning to her dreams once again.
The simple action derailed his inner woes, instead filling Brook’s mind with nothing but the thought of how good and right it felt with her in his arms. Pressing his nose against the crown of her head, he closed his hand around hers. Gently, selfishly, he pulled the sleeping form of his beloved that much closer.
“Oh, sweet dove, if only you knew how much you meant to me…” he whispered against her hair, a quiet secret that was met with her rhythmic breathing.
Gods, he wanted nothing more than for every day to be like this…
Brook was unsure of how much time had passed when he was awoken by the sound of muted voices outside of the library. He could not recall having dozed off and found himself surprised he had allowed himself to sleep through this treasured moment. Considering the warmth and comfort of resting in the embrace of his sweetheart, he realized drifting off had been an inevitability.
Listening to the distant sounds of the rest of their crew finally waking of their own accord, he could recognize the tone of confusion in several voices - undoubtedly puzzled by the unmistakable lack of a morning performance. He briefly heard heavy footsteps upon the deck leading towards the library before Nami’s muffled voice persuaded them away, affording him and his dove more precious time alone. Silently promising to do something nice in exchange for their navigator’s kindness, he turned his attention away from the world outside and back to the woman in his arms.
A soft chuckle escaped him when he realized how their fingers were still intertwined, neither of them willing to let the other go even as they slept. Blissfully listening to the rhythm of her soft breathing and the gentle song of her heartbeat, he found his gaze drawn to the source of his favorite music. He could do nothing to look away from the vision of beauty resting against him, mesmerized by how the warm sunlight painted her sleeping form in shades of gold.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt this happy, this content, this complete. Their lives had intersected by chance all those years ago and she had become such an irreplaceable part of his world that he simply could not imagine a single day not spent at her side. Now, after getting to spend a few hours of a single morning in her embrace, he wondered if any memory would ever shine brighter in his mind than this moment.
Unable to help himself, Brook reached out to tenderly brush a few stray hairs away from her face, his skeletal fingertips grazing across her skin. The gentle motion finally stirred her awake, her eyelids fluttering before slowly opening. When her sleepy gaze met his, a smile spread across her lips that made something in his empty chest ache.
"Good morning, dove," he greeted softly, delicately tucking the lock of her hair behind her ear to better see her smile.
"Good morning," she breathed, those two simple words whispered to him and for only him making his head spin.
When her small hand squeezed his before slipping free from his palm, he initially felt saddened that this moment was coming to an end, but was surprised when he felt as her hand delicately settled against his face.
“Is this a dream?” she asked quietly, a smile in her voice as she brushed her fingertips across the line of his chin.
Sighing into her touch, it took Brook several moments to process what she had asked and even longer to fumble for the words he needed to respond. He was so wrapped around her little finger that he forgot how to think when she so lovingly touched his face, every part of him completely entranced by her tender embrace.
“While this dream would be one quite familiar to me, I pray not,” he finally answered, perhaps a bit more honestly than he would have preferred had he not been entranced by her affections.
She hummed softly in response, seemingly pleased by his reply, as she rose onto her elbows to gaze down at him. He opened his mouth to speak, to try to provide a more articulate answer for her, but was stunned into silence by the sight of the angel perched above him.
Her hair was a mess, the strands framing her face like a halo as she was backlit by the morning sun. A tenderness glimmered in her sleepy gaze as she looked down at him with half-lidded eyes, her eyes following her fingertips as she gently traced the line of his jaw. A warm smile pulled at the corners of her lips, a blush dusting the apples of her cheeks as she caressed his face.
"Beautiful…" Brook whispered, the certainty he was gazing upon divinity stealing the word from his soul.
Her gaze flicked up to meet his own as her expression shifted to a look of surprise, the delicate blush decorating her cheeks quickly spreading. Dropping her head to hide her reddened face against his chest, he briefly fretted that he had said the wrong thing. When the sound of her bubbling laughter met his ears, however, the genuine joy in the sound of her giggling made his breath catch.
There was no other word to describe it - to describe her. Beautiful.
Brook shivered at the feeling of her hands reaching out to cradle his face, her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. When she lifted her head, her face so much closer to his own, her expression was bright with mirth and something warmer.
When she crossed that small distance between them and kissed him, he could feel how she was smiling.
It was so unlike any kiss he had ever experienced or even read about, her lips soft against his teeth and her hands warm against his face. It was so different from anything he expected but, instead of feeling incomplete, it felt right. Instead of fretting about how he didn't have lips to return her kiss with, he felt nothing but bliss.
Despite everything he had lost, everything he was still missing, she kissed him. She kissed him like it was the simplest thing in the world - loving him exactly how he was now.
Parting just enough to giggle softly, she pressed her lips against him again and again and then once more. Her fingertips sunk into his hair, holding him close as he drowned in her affections. He hardly knew how to reciprocate but the gentle sigh she breathed when his hands curled around her waist encouraged him. Holding her more confidently, he pulled her impossibly closer, his adoring touch sending a little shiver through his beloved.
To Brook, she was like a priceless painting on display in a museum - something so unwaveringly precious and beautiful that it was to be gazed upon but never touched. Kissing her felt so impossible and forbidden, as if he had spirited away with a national treasure. As a pirate and as a man in love, he had never felt so complete.
When she finally pulled away, only far enough to press her forehead against his, his head was spinning.
"Are you certain this isn’t a dream?" she whispered, a smile in her voice.
"Does this feel like a dream to you, dove?" he answered breathlessly, the only thing anchoring him to his bones being the feeling of her body against his.
"Let me check…" she hummed with a teasing tone, tilting her head to kiss him one more time and making his missing heart leap in his chest, "Mhmm, it does."
Chuckling softly in joy and disbelief, a part of him wondered if this was indeed just a dream. Yet, even in his gentlest dreams, she had never kissed him so sweetly, she had never nestled against him so comfortably, and she had never loved him so easily.
"If it is, let's stay asleep for a while longer," he whispered against her lips, feeling as she smiled before she kissed him again.