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It's the way he's stood while talking to you—laid back, face calm, relaxed, as if he isn't talking to the most beautiful person in all the world.
No.
It's how easily he seems able to make you laugh this evening. There's no way he's capable of making you fall off balance just because of something funny he said and yet he's seemingly done that not once, but twice!
Maybe.
It's the hand he puts on your shoulder when you lean towards him, bending over in laughter at something he said. His face is concerned, but Sanji can see the twinkle in his eye and the rosy cheeks that come hand in hand with too much sake from a mile away. And he's certain the swordsman is far too red in the face for the number of drinks he's had so far this evening...
Definitely.
The warmth of the early evening sun hits your cheeks, highlighting you wonderfully in the beautiful, soft pink glow. And even the wind seems to be a friend to you this evening, the gentle breeze flows over you, causing your clothes to flap distractingly and your hair to cascade across your cheeks.
Sanji huffs, the weight of his feelings sit heavy on his chest as he watches you talk with Zoro. He knows he shouldn't be watching you, he can almost feel Luffy searching for him—there's no doubt in his mind that soon enough the familiar cry for food will fill the already loud evening celebrations.
"Pull it together…" Sanji chastises himself under his breath.
His heart thuds hard against his chest. With every pump Sanji swears his hearing gets more and more muffled, like bits of cotton are being stuffed into his ears.
The pit in his stomach grows heavier the longer he stands on the deck.
So distracted, so caught up in his own head, Sanji almost turns around without so much as a nod of acknowledgement towards Usopp, who is dancing his way across the deck towards him.
"Hey, Sanji! Are you feeling okay? You've got the weirdest look on your face…" Usopp asks, tilting his head sideways, as he comes to a stop in front of Sanji.
He brings a finger to his temple and scratches at it, eyes narrowing slightly as he ponders the reason for the cook's distracted behaviour.
Sanji splutters, "pardon? Oh, yes I'm–"
Your laughter cuts him off, breaking his concentration as his eyes focus back onto you. Usopp follows his gaze, confusion written on his face.
"Right... well–"
"Sorry! Yes, I'm fine."Sanji turns away from you, snapping his focus back to Usopp who stands with his hands on his hips as if to say what the hell are you doing?
"What can I do for you?" Sanji asks.
"Well, it's not me, it's Nami. She told me to ask if we've got any of that tangerine drink from earlier left over."
Sanji does his best to ignore the sound of your voice, your happiness is infectious and Zoro's voice soon joins the chorus, making Sanji's mood sour further. "Give me a second, it's best served at room temperature so I left it in the kitchen."
"You're the best! Thank you."
Sanji turns and stalks back toward the kitchen. His glare could cut glass.
"And don't forget to bring some back for me as well!" Usopp cries out after him.
The volume of his shout is loud enough that it draws your attention. When you turn your head you catch a glimpse of Sanji as he heads back inside. His posture tells you all you need to know and with an apologetic smile you turn your head back towards Zoro before excusing yourself.
"Hmph." Is all Sanji has to say as he pulls out two glasses and begins to fill them with the tangerine drink.
There's no reason for him to be this sour, he's being ridiculous. It's Zoro after all. And it's you.
But something stirs in his chest when he sees you laughing so freely with someone else.
It's the look of pure joy on your face, given to you by someone other than Sanji, that makes his hair stand on end. It's that nagging feeling at the bottom of his stomach that tells him if he's not careful someone will come along and snatch you from his hands like he never meant anything to you.
And it's unfounded. He knows that. You're nothing but good to him.
You show him every day just how much he means to you.
He knows that.
But it's nothing to do with you, not really. There's not a bone in his body that feels unloved when he's with you. You treasure him beyond words, even when he's difficult or demanding and those feelings of unworthiness rear their ugly head.
In fact, all you've ever done is show him that you mean what you say. When you tell him you love him there's no room for anyone to doubt your words.
But he doesn't think he'll ever escape those nasty thoughts. Or those feelings that tell him just one bad day will be enough to scare you off.
He loves you, more than anything. The idea of you falling in love with someone else makes him feel sick, but it follows him around like a dark cloud anyway. Haunting him even on the brightest days.
His own jealousy makes his skin crawl. He hates how out of control he feels.
Seeing you enjoy your evening with your friends shouldn't make him feel like this.
So, like he does everytime he finds his anger bubbling and his insecurities raging, he disappears. He avoids you, tries to not look your way, tries to forget the sight of you smiling with someone else.
He hides until the clouds pass.
"Stupid mosshead and his stupid jokes..." Sanji mutters, harsh hits of the knife slamming down onto the chopping board with every word.
The lemon and lime juice trickles down the side of the board. Usually Sanji is careful and precise with how he slices the fruit, but this evening it's rough and jagged. The knife cuts violently and the juice splashes across Sanji's knuckles. It stings and Sanji curses, bringing his finger up to his mouth and sucking the juice off before it has a chance to sink further into the small cut he hadn't even known was there.
With his free hand he drops the fruit slices into the 2 glasses—1 lime slice for Usopp, 2 lime slices and 1 lemon slice for Nami.
Sanji walks to the sink and runs his hands under the cool water. It sends shivers down his spine and his shaky breathing even outs as he cleans and rinses the skin where the fruit juice has left its sticky residue.
Sometimes his head quiets down when he's alone in the kitchen, putting his focus towards creating delicious meals and drinks for his friends. It can be grounding, although a lot of the time it's the renewal of his confidence. He knows he can cook. He knows he can treat people to food beyond their wildest imagination. He's a good cook. That he is certain about.
You can tell Sanji's mind is elsewhere as you enter the kitchen. He doesn't turn around to greet you as you push your way through the door, he doesn't even move.
The sounds of celebration get shut out immediately and you welcome the silence with a deep sigh. You love your friends to death but god do they know how to party. Franky and Luffy show no signs of slowling down and when you add Brook to the mix, his music only adds fuel to the already blazing party fire.
You would have found your way to the kitchen at some this evening anyway, you always do. When the music grows louder and the dancing gets wild there's just something about the kitchen that revives your energy. Sanji usually joins you and the two of you sit in comfortable silence, sometimes making light conversation and sometimes doing things in a darkened corner that perhaps you shouldn't when someone could walk in at any second...
But tonight was different. You had felt his eyes on you ever since the party had started, but somehow you knew it got more intense as the evening went on.
You were no stranger to the inner workings of Sanji's head. You knew something was off and you knew it had something to do with you. You also knew he had a tendency to disappear when something was bothering him, like he was ashamed of his own feelings.
You're only a couple of steps away from Sanji when you clear your throat. The noise startles him and he turns, expecting Usopp, and readys an excuse for his lack of urgency in bringing out the drinks.
The words die on his lips when he sees you. His expression softens, his eyes skirt over your figure quickly—the necklace he got you on the last island you visited sits pride of place around your neck. And there's no mistaking the look of understanding in your eyes.
It makes him shiver, knowing you can see right through him.
But he tries to play off your concerns anyway, hoping he can put off the inevitable a little longer.
"Hey there, pretty lady, care for a drink?" He eyes you, speaking slightly louder than he means to. "You'll take 2 lemon slices and 2 lime, is that right?"
You nod your head, a small smile appearing on your face. As you step forward Sanji steps back towards the cupboard, unnecessarily since there's already a spare glass on the counter. You frown, taking a small step forward again, trying to get a good look at his face.
He refuses you such a luxury this evening, turning his head away from you at every opportunity and busying himself with reorganising and tidying things that you would say are already organised and tidied.
You lean towards the counter and count the fruit slices left on the chopping board. He has already cut the perfect amount of slices for your drink—like he was intending to make you a drink as well, despite you not having asked him yet.
Your heart lurches at the thought.
Gingerly you place a hand to his shoulder, halting his frantic movements. You see him take a deep, uneven breath and you step closer once more, trying to block the escape route you know he's already thinking about disappearing through under the guise of more busy kitchen stuff.
"Sanji..." Your voice is gentle, almost stern in how serious and sincerely you whisper his name.
He falters as your hand slips down the curve of his back, tracing the band of his trousers and holding him tightly by the belt loop. With a soft tug you pull him towards you. He falls into you with ease, but still he continues to pretend nothing is wrong.
"I really should be getting these drinks back out there, angel. Usopp and Nami will be waiting."
The petname usually disarms you.
It's something that he calls you in those tender moments between islands, when you lie together beneath the stars and rest your head on his chest.
It's said in those breathless moments where he has you moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around your waist like he'll die if you're more than a hairs width away.
And it's said casually. Over the dinner table, in front of everyone just so he can see your eyes roll with affection. Knowing your cheeks are glowing with heat and that you'll soon disarm him in return, with a kiss to the cheek or a soft rebuttal that will have him needing to turn away from you.
But it doesn't disarm you now. Not when there's something so clearly wrong. There's a distinct lack of his usual affection in the word, no playful smirk or raise of the eyebrow. It's off-putting and it sends a shiver of unease down your spine.
"They'll be okay to wait, baby. Nami is in the middle of trying to haggle with some poor islander and Usopp is... well he's thoroughly distracted singing with Chopper and Brook."
Sanji's nose scrunches and you can see a retort sitting on the end of his tongue, he's fighting with himself.
You're here, in front of him, touching him, it's silly to still feel jealous. Isn't it?
You came after him, you wanted to see him.
You care.
He shakes off your hand not unkindly before plastering a smile on his face. It fails to reach his eyes but he doesn't give you the chance to dwell on it. Instead, he pushes past you, arm brushing against yours and scoops the three glasses into his hands.
The featherlight kiss he pressed to your hair as he passed you leaves a burning imprint on your head.
"I'll see you out there, beautiful."
You reach a hand out, "no. Sanji, please. Can we just tal-"
But he's gone before you can finish your sentence, leaving you before you even the opportunity to ask him if everything was okay.
With a sigh you drop your arm, it slaps harshly against your side but you don't so much as flinch. You flop into the seat closest to you, folding in on yourself and dropping your head against the table in defeat.
It's odd, you think, caring so much about someone and still feeling like they don't trust you enough to let you in when things feel bad.