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The kitchen lights were still on, not unusual in the slightest, but it was quieter than normal. The absence of clattering dishes, the hum of movement, no soft muttering under Sanji’s breath as he worked. It was still. Sanji paused in the doorway, one hand still resting against its frame. “...That’s strange.” He took a step inside, spotting you. You were slumped forward slightly at the table, arms folded beneath your head, your cheek pressed awkwardly against your sleeve. Asleep, and not comfortably, either. Your posture was all wrong- neck bent at an angle that would definitely bother you later, shoulders barely supported by the chair. There was an untouched plate in front of you, still warm.
Sanji exhaled quietly through his nose. “...Idiot.” The word came out softer than it sounded. He moved closer, steps quieter now without any thought behind them. You didn’t stir or shift in the slightest, your breathing slow and even, completely out of it. You must’ve been more tired than you let on. That wasn’t unusual, either. Sanji glanced at the untouched plate, typical. He clicked his tongue under his breath, reaching out to move it aside carefully so it wouldn’t spill. Then his attention shifted back to you.
To the way your fingers curled loosely against your sleeve, and to the faint crease between your brows, even in sleep. “...You waited,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. For a moment, he just stood there, watching. Not in a way that lingered too long- just enough to take in the details, to confirm what he already knew. Then he sighed, quieter this time. “...You’re going to regret that position in the morning.” You didn’t respond, obviously.
Carefully, he reached down, one hand settling lightly against your shoulder. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Wake up.” You stirred- barely. A faint shift, small sound and the twitch of your nose, but nothing more. Not enough for Sanji. “...Tch.” His grip adjusted, just slightly firmer. “Come on.” This time, your eyes cracked open slowly, a little unfocused. “...Sanji?”
“Yeah.”
You blinked at him, still halfway somewhere else. “...I didn’t mean to-” Sanji waved his hand. “Save it.” It wasn’t in a harsh way, just dismissive in a way that meant he wasn’t interested in excuses. You tried to sit up, which didn’t really go well. Your movement was sluggish, your balance off just enough that you wavered slightly. Sanji’s hand was already there before you tipped too far- steadying you without comment. “...Easy.”
“I’m fine,” you mumbled automatically. “I know.” A beat passed, interrupted by his voice, slightly softer. “That’s not the point.” You squinted slightly, trying to wake up properly. “...Did I fall asleep?”
“No,” he said flatly. “You decided to take a nap in the most uncomfortable possible position.”
“...Right.” You rubbed your face, wincing slightly as your neck protested. “...That tracks.”
“Of course it does.”
Before you could say anything else, something was pressed lightly into your hands. You blinked down at it. A warm plate was moved in front of you. “...You remade it?” You were too tired to make any sense of it, perhaps he made it again while you were still asleep, or your original plate was still warm. It didn’t really matter. “Mm.” Sanji interrupted your thoughts, causing you to look up at him. “You didn’t have to-”
“Eat.” There it was, simple and final. You hesitated for a second before you picked up the fork and took a bite. The warmth hit first, then the taste. It was familiar, steady, and grounding in a way that settled something in your chest before you could think about it too much. You swallowed slowly. “...It’s good,” you murmured. Sanji huffed quietly in response. “Obviously.” He didn’t sit across from you this time; didn’t hover directly in front of you like before. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely, cigarette between his fingers unlit. He watched you, not closely, but enough to keep an eye on you.
You ate slower than usual, still half-tired. Your movements were a little delayed and your thoughts still hadn’t quite caught up yet. But you kept going, one bite after another. “...You could’ve woken me earlier,” you said after a moment. “I did.” You sighed. “...Properly, then.” Sanji glanced at you for a moment. “...You looked like you needed it.” You paused slightly as a small frown touched your lips. “...I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Didn’t say you did.”
A comfortable, familiar silence settled for a while after that, one that didn’t need to be filled by conversation. You continued to eat a few more bites before you looked up at Sanji again. “...You stayed.” Sanji didn’t respond right away, his gaze shifting away from you. “Food gets cold if I don’t.” You huffed softly in response. “...That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” A pause, as he shifted slightly against the counter, his gaze settling back on you. “...You would’ve said something if you didn’t want me here.” Your chest tightened a little as you looked down at the plate. “...Yeah.”
You finished more than you expected to. Not everything, of course, but enough. When you finally set the fork down, your shoulders had finally relaxed, and your posture was less tense than before. You were more awake now, and Sanji noticed. “...Better?” He asked. You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
You didn’t get up right away and rush off like you usually would. You just sat there for a moment longer, the quiet stretching out between you again. “...Thank you,” you broke the silence in a soft, honest voice. Sanji looked at you for a second before he exhaled quietly. “...Go to bed.” You blinked at him. “...That’s it?” Sanji huffed, looking more at the table instead of directly at you. “What more do you want?” You smiled faintly. “...Nothing.”
You stood, a little slower this time, but steadier than before and made your way to the door. “...Don’t stay up too late,” you added, glancing back at him. Sanji raised a brow slightly. “...Worried about me?” You sent him a soft smile. “Someone has to be.” You both stood there for a moment, neither of you leaving, until Sanji smiled. “...Get some sleep.”
By the time he had turned back to the kitchen, he glanced down at your plate, almost empty. Almost. He didn’t comment on it; he didn’t feel the need to. But his movements felt just a little lighter after that, enough to notice.