Monologue: Ugh, Fleur, you good for nothing.
Flashback will be the second last chapter, guys. Fufufufu.
So… I just wanna know, given this situation, how would you react to meeting someone you used to date? What do you expect to happen, or what did happen? I just wanna take a break and listen, because I write an ending that you can relate to. I don't know, cheesy, right?
I love you, I love you all, all of you beautiful girls and handsome boys who have been through breakups before, and you've became more beautiful now that you're still able to smile. Yes, you are. And if you feel that you're not, PM me so I can smack it deep into your head. We're all friends, right?
One Piece belongs to Oda. This is a sucky AU.
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
I was chopping some onions for omelette for breakfast. I assumed, with Zoro's presence in this house, it would be a breakfast for two, and I was feeling a little generous to prepare something for this handsome, manly, heartbreaker guest to eat before he leave later. Knowing him for the past few years, there is no way he would reject good food, but I don't know if back then it was faked by his so-called undying love or we had similar taste when it comes to food.
"Taken your shower yet?" I asked, without even looking up. From where his voice came from, he was probably leaning against the refrigerator. "I've put out a new toothbrush for you on the sink in the bathroom. I always had extra just in case someone wants to stay overnight." I reached for a frying pan on the windowpane, and set it nicely on the kitchen stove. "I've laid out clean towels for you, too. But don't touch the purple one, it's mine. Yours is the green one – they're new, I've only washed them once."
"Thanks." He said. "I've brushed my teeth. I haven't showered yet. Maybe later." I heard a sigh. "I'm really sorry for crashing in last night."
Though, I wouldn't technically call it crashing in. Zoro appeared again last night, after the show. And thank you very much to the little dying, love-thirsty – maybe – monster inside me, I said 'okay' when he asked if he could visit me again for a midnight coffee, or something like that. He said he didn't feel like going home, and perhaps he had too much coffee that he started mumbling and confessing weird irrelevant things a drunken man would've said to the bartender. He ended up falling asleep, and I managed to drag him to my bed.
I, on the other hand, enjoyed my four-hour sleep on the couch in the living room.
"Cooking omelette?"
I nodded. "There's fried rice on the table. Coffee sachets are in the container beside the microwave. There's also tea, Milo, hot chocolate, green tea, help yourself."
"Move over," he replied, suddenly standing next to me. I finally took a look at him – the very usual, bedridden, messy hair, finely built torso and of course, a pair of green boxers with pictures of dinosaurs posing with swords. "I said, move over. I'll handle the omelette. You go sit."
I let him take over the stove. Awkwardly, I quickly grabbed two mugs and placed them on the kitchen counter. "You want what?" I asked.
"You have hot chocolate?"
"I'll make two, then." I took two sachets of instant hot chocolate powder and poured each into each mug.
"Thanks."
I took my seat at the dining table in the middle of the kitchen. It's half past eight now, and at this hour I would usually be out looking for milk tea with a nice coffee shop to sit in, alone. "You know, I didn't expect you to be up so early. You'd usually wake up at noon."
"Yeah, but that's me ages ago, Robin. I've been working for a few years now, 'member? Package includes normal working hours and complimentary headache."
"That's nice to hear."
"I don't make breakfast that much, anyway."
"Oh, do you still remember how to cook?"
"Shut up, woman." He raised his shoulder annoyingly as I laughed. "I'm trying to be polite, since I woke up in someone else's house and took over her bed… Wait, where do you sleep last night?"
"Oh, on the couch."
"Oh."
"Don't worry, it's comfy." I rested my chin on my palm, looked up at him and silently took a deep breath. "You're not used to sleeping over at someone else's?"
"I like my house, thanks."
"How many did girls did you sleep with after me?"
I heard him choke on his own saliva. He paused for a moment, and then focused back on the omelette. "What kind of ridiculous ass question is that?"
"Just out of curiosity," I kept casual, and after spending last night talking and being comfortable with each other – again, after all these years – I've found it easier to pretend casual. "So, how many?"
"None."
"You're not being serious," I replied.
"Do I look like I bang every chick I date?" He turned, and carrying the frying pan with one hand, he poured the content of the pan onto an empty plate on the kitchen table.
"You told me I was your very first," I said elegantly awkward, found myself imitating some Audrey Hepburn character. "Now looking back, you seem like the type who would tell that to every girl you date."
"Oi, oi, oi. I'm not that cheap." He placed the frying pan in the kitchen sink. "And ow, that hurts."
"I'm sorry. It's just that, you've dated quite a number after me."
"Wha- Did you stalk me or something?"
"I told you once to privatise all your social networking profiles, Zoro, remember? But you never listened. You're only making it easier for me to keep updated with you."
"I regret that I never bothered to."
"Don't worry. I was just looking. I have no murderous intentions towards anyone you dated."
"You don't sound that convincing to me."
I pulled on a very witchy look.
"Yeah, but still. I treasure what's underneath these boxers. I lose it to you. So let it be only you until I find someone I can settle down with."
"Wow, you sounded very cheesy. I feel special, for some reason." I raised my eyebrows. "Come, let's eat. Leave the pan on the sink. I'll wash it later."
He pulled a chair beside me, and I handed him an empty dinner plate. "It's nice that we can be friends again, Robin. I mean, you scared me sometimes."
"I scared you?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're a woman. When you people got out of a long relationship, you people don't move on. Maybe you people do move on, but it'll take a thousand years. Or something. I don't want to show myself when you're still, you know. But I'm glad you did."
He didn't know how very wrong he was, but I played along, or else, I would've watched him exit this house, and exit my life, again. "I wouldn't want to let you in again, either," I said, with a small chuckle. Or else you'll hurt me, again. I smiled, and helped myself to my favourite fried rice. "So, your relationships after mine, I noticed they all didn't last long…"
I hoped this would be one comfortable chat-over-breakfast.
