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He calls you beautiful.
He calls every woman beautiful, of course. It’s just who he is. You’d be a fool to read more into it.
“My love!” He calls you, smile lighting up his face, hands over his heart. Your breath hitches, your heart fluttering, as it always does. It takes everything in you not to swoon. It’s only natural to be excited to finally receive this kind of attention, especially from someone as wonderful as Sanji, but you can’t help the bitterness on your tongue. He doesn’t mean it. You should understand that by now.
“Yes, Sanji?” You try to keep your tone light, but from the immediate concern on his face you can tell you’ve failed.
“Is everything alright, angel?”
God, he really has no idea what he does to you, does he? “I’m fine,” you snap, unconvincingly.
He winces, taking a step closer. “It…doesn’t sound fine. Is there anything you need? I hate to see a beautiful lady suffering.”
“God, will you stop doing that?” There are tears threatening to spill down your lashes, your breath growing unsteady. You feel pathetic, but really, shouldn’t you?
“Doing what, love? I don’t understand.” He reaches for your hands, unable to hide the hurt on his face when you pull them back like you’ve been burned.
“This! All of this! It’s just cruel. I know you don’t mean anything by it, but you have no idea how much it hurts to hear.” You feel your cheeks growing wet. You can’t bring yourself to say the next part, about how much it hurts because you wish with all of your heart he really meant it.
“What? Being kind to you?” He doesn’t reach for you again, holding his hands up like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. His voice has softened, losing that sugary sweet edge it always gets when he’s flirting. You’re speaking to the real Sanji now, your friend, not the flirt. You don’t know if this is better, because those gentle hands and kind eyes make your knees far weaker than any compliment ever will.
“The…flirting. I can’t stand it anymore.” Your back has hit the wall, and you allow yourself to slide down, curling into a ball once you hit the ground. Anything not to look at him, or have him see you red eyed and sniffling. The tenderness in his eyes makes you feel naked under his gaze, a vulnerable wounded animal with no way to escape.
He hisses through his teeth. “Oh no, has it been making you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, dear, I never meant to–”
“No,” you manage to creak out between gasping breaths. “No, not exactly. Well, sort of.” How do you admit to him that he’s the first person to call you beautiful? The first person to look at you like that? How much it hurts that the first time you heard such lovely words they were nothing more than empty compliments?
You hear the quiet thud of his knees hitting the ground, and you know he’s kneeling in front of you, hoping to catch your eye. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Please talk to me. I can’t know how to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“It…No one ever says things like that to me. I don’t know what to do.” You hardly whisper the words, and if it wasn’t for the sigh he lets out you wouldn’t think he heard you at all.
“What to do? You don’t need to do anything when you’re complimented. Do you feel pressured to respond?” His hand lightly touches your elbow, not pushing further, but letting you know he’s here and he’s trying to help.
“No,” you mutter. “I don’t know how to hear it. It hurts.”
“It…hurts?” He tries to keep his voice even, but you can hear the devastation. He never wants to hurt any woman, but especially you. His friend, that cursed and wonderful word. “How does it hurt?”
I wish you meant it, you think. Instead you try for something less painful to say. “The first time a man has ever flirted with me he didn’t even mean it. How could it do anything but hurt?”
He’s silent for a moment, and you’re convinced you’ve ruined everything. He’s going to laugh at you, or be disgusted, or–
A gentle hand on your chin lifts your head, and despite yourself you let it. Sanji’s eyes are so soft, so kind, and, if allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for just one second, affectionate. “Oh, angel, what made you think I don’t mean it?”
You blink. “What?”
He gives you a small, sorrowful smile. “I’ve never said anything I don’t mean to you. You’re absolutely wonderful, and just as beautiful and kind and smart as I always say. I thought you knew that.” The hand slides up to caress your cheek, wiping your tears away. “It’s hard to believe I’m the first person brave enough to tell you that.”
“You…really mean it?” Your eyes dart all over his face, looking for any trace of dishonesty, but you can’t find any. It’s hard to believe, but Sanji’s always been an honest man. Maybe…just maybe you can dare to let yourself believe him. To allow yourself to fall, or at least admit you already have.
“Every word, my love. I swear it.” He puts his free hand over his heart, in a move both sweet and corny and quintessentially Sanji. “I fell for you the moment I saw you, I had no idea you didn’t know.”
“You thought I knew?”
“I thought you were very kindly rejecting me.” He gives you another smile, this one boyish and giddy. “It’s nice to learn that isn’t true.”
“I could never reject you. I–” Your voice catches, unpractised and clumsy, but you force yourself to be brave and push through. “I really like you, Sanji. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. More than I know what to do with, honestly.”
He chuckles at that. “I know how you feel.” You take a closer look at him and suddenly it’s like you’re looking in a mirror: shaking hands, red face, nervous knee bouncing. How did you not see it before?
Maybe you can keep being brave. Maybe you can let him know you feel just as strongly as he does. “Can I kiss you?”
His face lights up, and his shine truly rivals the sun. “Oh my god, please. Yes, I mean. Yes. You can. Should, even.”
His eyelids flutter shut, and before you can doubt yourself you press your lips together. They’re sinfully soft, and they taste like cigarettes and a little spice. Somehow it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted.
You don’t know how long that kiss lasts. Every time you move to pull away and catch your breath, his hands grip you desperately, like he’s terrified you’ll fade away the moment it ends. For such a tender thing, it leaves you both panting and breathless in the end. He stares at you like you’re something miraculous, something wonderful, and as you try to catch your breath, you’re surprised to find you feel…wanted.
You think you’ll have to get used to the feeling.