Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.

Zoro thought Sanji was pretty.

The blond was the new neighbor of the flat. He had bright golden hair that looked as soft as a newborn chick. His eyes were a dark blue; these were pretty too, but the man preferred to hide one of them with his long bangs. He was slender, skinny almost, but he looked like he visited the gym a few times a week. He was also a chef at a well-known restaurant in the middle of the city. Zoro had never been there before, but it had 4.5-4.8 stars in all restaurant websites. Since he was a cook, he took diligent care with his hands, so Zoro was surprised to see the various types of hand lotions Sanji carried around in his briefcase.

They first met when Sanji was moving in. Zoro couldn't believe how attractive the blond man was, so he immediately said 'you're pretty.' He received a painful kick on the side, and Zoro didn't forget to pay it back by several punches and tugs. He noticed that whenever he used the word 'pretty,' it pissed the blond off to a boiling point, so he learned to keep those compliments to himself. After meeting him in the worst situation possible, they became okay friends.

Sanji sometimes invited Zoro over, because 'you can't live off on only alcohol, you ape,' was his usual saying. His food—no wonder he worked in that restaurant-because it was magnificent. Every bite was precious and filled the mouth with more than just flavor. It boosted his happiness, and his stomach was always full and content. His dish contained equal portions of protein, vegetables and carbohydrates, so he also felt healthier than what he made on his own. He felt lucky to eat at Sanji's place when other people needed to place reservations several months in advance.

Not only Sanji was skilled in cooking, he was perfect in everything and he did it in a flawless manner. Zoro sometimes wondered if he was watching a performance or a stage play because whatever Sanji did looked pretty. The blond could be picking his nose, and still somehow find a cool way to do it.

Because he was pretty and perfect, he was popular as well. Zoro found Sanji to be around many friends. Even strangers in the bar or café strode up to Sanji and had a quick chat. This always happened while they went out to lunch and Zoro was used to it by now, but Sanji always gave an apologetic look before he left his seat, his food growing cold by the time he returned.

Counting back the times they hung out together, Zoro wondered why he was the first and only one Sanji invited him to his room, or go outside to have lunch and shop. There were many other people who were up to par with Sanji's great looks. Zoro was really short on it. Compared to him, Zoro looked shabby. His best outfit was a turtleneck sweater he bought at a retail store and jeans without any holes. He felt a bit sorry for having lunch with someone who radiated like sunshine, when his other friends could do just that. Also, Zoro didn't like to talk, so often their meals were eaten in silence. Zoro preferred this, but seeing Sanji joyfully talking and laughing with others, he felt bad. When he asked him why Sanji always chose him when they went out to eat and such, Sanji merely growled at him and said, 'you're so dumb, you know that?'

Zoro's relationship with Sanji was comfortable but at the same time hesitant.

The weather was getting cooler and Zoro often left his cold room to take a nap in the lounging area of the flat. The five story tall apartment was built strangely because the building was a tall cylinder with rooms along the circumference, so it had a wide, round lounging space on every floor. The landlord furnished this space—Zoro called it the Center —with comfortable couches and pillows that also formed in a circle. Since he was on the fifth floor, the flat had an enormous sunroof right above the Center. Adequate sunlight filtered down on the cream and light blue colored couches, so often Zoro visited to take a brief nap or work on his studies.

He found Sanji already occupying a seat and was working on something. He took a small table, and set a large tote bag with bundles of dark gray yarn. Sanji was knitting; his hands languidly weaved the two knitting needles into brilliant and identical patterns. When he made three to four rows, he set it down to pick up his cigarette waiting in the ashtray. He took a slow suck on it, held it, and then gently blew it out into a faint wisp. Zoro didn't know Sanji could knit, and his heart fluttered again. Man, he was so pretty.

"Hey," Sanji greeted, his eye looking somewhere across the room.

"Hey," Zoro answered, and then glanced at the unfinished project, "it's pretty."

"…ha?"

"I mean…the thing you're working on."

"Ah, oh yeah. Thanks."

"I didn't know you could knit."

"I do it sometimes when it gets cold."

"What are you making?"

"A sweater."

"Wow." Zoro shifted his arms around, tugging his own sleeves to calm himself, "Are you going to wear it?" He would look so good in it.

"No, I'm giving it away as a gift."

Zoro couldn't help but be disappointed, "…To whom?"

Sanji paused with his finger and lips still holding the cigarette. He made an irritated sigh and as he crushed it against the ashtray he said, "It's for you, stupid."

Zoro let out a small puff of breath because he forgot how to breathe.

Sanji's hands returned to the needles and resumed knitting, "You have to wait until Christmas though. I have things stored for Christmas Eve, so I need to finish this as soon as I can. Do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?"

Zoro managed to gathered his speech and replied with poor articulation, "N-Not yet."

"Not yet? You have something planned?"

"N-No, I don't know. But I don't think so."

"Then, leave a space open for dinner because I want to invite you over. Remember to give me something too." Sanji said quickly while focusing his attention on his knitting. Zoro nodded clumsily and returned back to recollect his thoughts, completely forgetting what he headed to the Center for.