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Zoro swallowed. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you shut me out,” Zoro said, quieter than intended. “Where you act like I don’t matter.”
Sanji huffed a laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. “You’re imagining things, marimo.” He said it so easily. Carelessly, even. Like Zoro was nothing more than a small inconvenience he could wipe off like steam from a mirror. It stung. It always stung. And Zoro hated himself for letting it.
Sanji finally turned, and in the soft glow of the galley, he looked tired, like he’d been holding something in so tightly it might spill if he breathed wrong. “Why are you really here?” He asked bitterly.
Zoro stepped closer before he could think better of it. Close enough to smell smoke on Sanji’s suit. Close enough to feel that magnetic pull he kept pretending wasn’t there. “I keep letting you treat me like this,” Zoro murmured, “and I don’t know why.”
Sanji’s eyes flickered; surprise, guilt, then something else he couldn’t name.
“Maybe,” Sanji began, “it’s because you love me.”
Zoro’s breath caught. Because it was true. Because he didn’t know how to stop it. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” Zoro said, voice low. Controlled. Trying to hold back everything he didn’t know how to voice.
“Why?” Sanji challenged softly. “Because it’s true?”
Zoro’s jaw tightened. He hated how easily Sanji could peel him open with just a few words. How he could make Zoro feel like a raw nerve with nothing to shield himself was beyond him. Sanji looked down then spoke “I don’t want you to be someone I can hurt,” he said. “But sometimes it feels like you let me anyway. Like you want it…”
Zoro exhaled, harsh and uneven. “I don’t want it.” Sanji’s gaze lifted, sharp and searching. “Then what do you want?” Zoro stepped closer. Close enough that even the shadows between them trembled.
“For you to stop pretending.”
Sanji froze. Completely.
For a moment, neither of them breathed.
Then Sanji whispered, “Pretending what?”
Immediately Zoro replied. That you don’t feel any of this…that it’s just fighting. Just insults. That it doesn’t get under your skin. I know it does. I see it.” Sanji’s expression cracked; barely, but just enough.
“You know too damn much,” he murmured, voice almost breaking on the confession.
Zoro reached out, slowly enough that Sanji could pull away.
He didn’t.
Zoro’s fingers lightly brushed Sanji’s cheek. Sanji sucked in a breath like the touch burned. “You ruin me, you know that?” he said, a strained laugh caught in the back of his throat. “Every time you look at me like that, it feels like…”
There was a moment of silence as Sanji tried to choose his words. “Like what?” Zoro asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Like I’m some project,” Sanji breathed. “Like you want to tear me open just to see what’s inside.”
Sanji pulled in a shaking breath, eyes soft and hurting. “Tell me what you want from me, Zoro.” Zoro swallowed hard. “I don’t want anything from you.” Sanji flinched ever so slightly. Closing the already small distance between them, his voice rough, Zoro spoke.
“I want something with you.”
Sanji’s breath stuttered and for the first time, he didn’t feel overwhelmed.