Passion Fruit
CHAPTER I: Slipper Dads and Coffee Moms
Sunrises were never considered a horrible thing to normal people. Would you believe it if you were told human beings actually wake up at the ass crack of dawn just to see a ball of fire rip through the sky? The basic human function would have told you to sleep in and not even give a damn if the sun that you see every day anyway was awakening from a temporary nap. Fathers and mothers with cozy house slippers, warm coffee, and energetic children were up that time of day. Up that early to look from their porch just to say "Well now dear, would you take a look at that! Lookie kids!" and point to the sky with a huge smile on their faces. Sunrises were not to be a dreadful occasion to normal, civilized, outstanding people. But Zoro was not normal or civilized or outlandish. He was an irritated, sleep deprived time bomb that was wondering why his bedroom window had to be facing the east. Why the builders of the house thought it was such a great idea to put a window on that side of the house where a bedroom is and where a person was soon reside was beyond him
Zoro laid there on his Batman infested sheets and blanket and thought it probably wasn't a good idea to have his mind run on and on all night long. He couldn't help it when his mind ran through all parts of the universe and hardly ever listened to him when he said 'shut the fuck up'. Instead, his brain decided to think about conspiracy theories, aliens, and wondering what colors he's never seen before looked like and if these answers were somehow buried deep inside the catacombs of the universe that scientist was probably too scared to explore.
By the time Zoro realized that his train of thought had led him into another black hole, an excruciating ray of sunlight hit him right by his pupil. A frustrated growl and sobbing sigh later, Zoro convinces himself there is no use missing his sleep when you can't turn back time so he finally sits up no matter how much his body rejects it. Zoro then rips the covers off in a careless fashion and swings his scar covered ankles over the bed. Rubbing his face with his both hands he gives another grief soaked sigh and then places his elbows on his knees. This is the time where "normal people" let their mind wander on the important things they have to do today. The good thing about not being able to sleep is that Zoro is already 40 light years of ahead all these civilized folk on what he's supposed to be doing today. Take that slipper dad.
Showering only manages to make Zoro sleepier as he uses his Axe soap and loofah sponge to cleanse himself. Another abnormal thing. Aren't showers supposed to replenish you? Damn. Another point for slipper dad. Zoro exits the shower, almost slipping on a water puddle, and examines himself in the mirror. He grips his jaw with his fingertips and moves his head from side to side to see if any sleep deprived zits or pieces of hair decided to awaken on his brown skin like the sun unfortunately did. Satisfied with his olive face, Zoro continues the necessary requirements of his morning routine.
Settling with a gray hoodie, black form-fitting pants, and his white Air Force Ones, he gently shuts his bedroom door and scurries down the hall to the room where his mother sleeps. Careful not to wake her, Zoro creaks open the door and sees her giant curly afro trying to escape from the covers, sleeping peacefully where the sun refused to be a nuisance to her from the west side of the house. Being a social worker and working at shit hours of the night will no doubt have you begging for sleep right when your head touches the pillow. Kids have always been Zoro's strong suit and found it ironic his mother only had one child with how much she cares for children. He made a mental note that he was elated his mother was able to sleep soundly without any disruptions. And even more elated that he was undoubtedly his mother.
Zoro shuts the door and heads downstairs into the kitchen. With all the time in the world on his hands, he takes out his phone and plays all types of music, and cooks breakfast for himself. Zoro never sticks to one type of music. He finds it strange when people ask him "What kind of music do you listen to?" To this Zoro scoffs and says "What kinda dumbass question is that?" Zoro listened to all kinds of melodies, new, old, hot, and not so hot. Whatever he listens to though, seems to replenish any sorrows or doubts better than a shower ever could. Music revolved around Zoro or maybe, he thought, he revolved around it.
Carefully cracking the eggs (a skill one of Zoro's "friends" had been on ass about since his "friend" taught him how to make breakfast) he places them in the pan and enjoys the steaming sound it makes. Waiting for his eggs to muster up, he sits on the counter and swings his feet to a particular song he picked which was Save Room by John Legend and eats a delicious serving of toast that was almost burnt, just as he likes it. This sets his day off to a better start than most people were probably having. Another W for Zoro and an L for the slipper dads.
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Arriving at Georgia State University on a red Yamaha Fazer wasn't exactly a way to avoid attention and Zoro's green hair didn't help his case either. Zoro didn't receive this bike for attention nor did he receive it for "popularity", something most young adults at the college would die for. You'd think since you were in college these 'almost adults' would have left that young minded attitude in high school, but there are still little-peppered specs of young mindedness scattered around the GSU building. Associating with these wannabes- teenagers in adult bodies will by no means have you hemmed up and pulling your hair out to no end. This is something Zoro knows all too well.
At least it wasn't the worshipping type of attention Zoro experienced when arriving on his Yamaha as GSU, but more of an intimidating presence. Zoro was a well fitted, 6 foot 1, lean, muscular dude, and had a chiseled jaw that did not disappoint. He was by no means an unattractive individual (something Zoro is oblivious to) and could easily pull a female if he wanted to. But having a desirable face didn't necessarily go with his menacing aura which not only led to him being admired but feared among his fellow peers. Zoro would take this type of attention any day over people crawling around him asking if his hair was actually green and if he could get his number to "hang out". Zoro didn't think about his luck with women often and didn't care. He just wanted to listen to his J. Cole.
This is just what I have so far, chapters will be much longer in the future. For now thanks for enjoying the intro to my boy Zoro.~ HotWing
I do not own Zoro unfortunately. He is owned by my boy Eiichiro Oda. Roxanne and Zoro's mother is mine though. Make sure to comment.