Robin stands beside Nami, who watches a couple of dancers on the street, eyes wide as they twirl in their long, colorful dresses. They stood together in comfortable streetside company, silent and happy.
Robin would never say it out loud, but she very much enjoyed Nami's company, particularly when they went shopping together. Robin wasn't very comfortable with large crowds, and so Nami held her hand whenever they went somewhere particularly flooded with civilians. Her grip was warm and guiding, and she would throw an extra sunny smile over her shoulder toward the woman as they walked. It wasn't that Robin didn't like physical contact, she was just never exposed to it as much as she should have. Years of running made the normally graceful woman awkward and hesitant when it came to touch. Nami knew where she was coming from, and was happy to supply the archeologist with as much intertwined hand holding or arm linking as she so desired.
In a way, Nami's touch was different from when Luffy would go up and hug her, or when Sanji would take her by the elbow whenever the historian lost her balance (very rarely did this occur, but when it did, the blonde cook was nothing short of a gentleman, unable to switch into his lovestruck faze even if he wanted to).
It differed from Chopper's tight squeeze and Zoro's light shoulder bumps, Brooke's polite yet needy cling whenever he put a bony hand on her shoulder, Usopp's soft fingers when they brushed against her skin or Franky's cold yet sincere hold when a battle was particularly tough.
In the end, she likes Nami's the best.
Robin looks at the smaller girl, who gazes at the dancers with a mixture of envy and delight in her pretty brown eyes. They sported long skirts themselves, with petite blouses and doll-like accessories, they were just shy when it came to participating, or at least, Nami was. The blue eyed beauty looks at what could be her younger sibling, they've been together for so long, and thinks back to all the times they would stay up late, talking about their favorite books in hushed whispers by lantern light, or laughing silently about their boys under the big round moon.
She remembers shared cups of cocoa in the morning, delicate cakes and the smell of ink and paper. Robin looks back on a particularly fond time when Nami asked very carefully about Ohara, the navigator was, surprisingly, very interested in the Ponegylph and the language of her former historians. Robin was more than eager to share this outpouring of knowledge to her, and found her company to resemble the sweetest of drinks when poured down the throat and warmed from within.
"Nami-san," Robin says, she had stopped calling her "navigator-san" for quite some time now. The girl in question turns and looks up at the older woman with a blush at being caught ogling the dancers, eyes shining the way one would toward an elder sibling.
"Ah, yes?"
A smile lights up the woman's face, pure and full.
"Would you like to dance?"
"Oh! Sure!"
AN: A short little story featuring our favorite girls, because there's just not enough Robin and Nami stories around. Enjoy!