Love

Sanji decided that he loved Nami maybe just a little bit too much. Not that he would ever, ever tell his sweet angel such; for all she knew, he loved her just enough. And oh, how he wished he did. It had gotten to the point that if he looked at her for too long it hurt, deep in his bones, and sometimes she would wink playfully and he would be so stunned that his heart stopped and, very nearly, his legs felt that holding him up was overrated. But he was in control, Sanji told himself; he was calm and collected, suave, a gentleman. He knew that because of this it would be wrong, wrong and unfair and uncalled for, to just give in and kiss her. So he held back. Asked, but never demanded; requested, but never took.

He wanted to protect her, his beautiful Nami-san, and he did the best he could. There were some things that no one could ever protect her from, things that broke Sanji's heart to think about, but he did the best he could. She was so painfully gorgeous, and he felt, simultaneously, that no one else had the right to notice and that everyone else had better if they knew what was good for them. Sometimes, when Nami stood on the deck and the wind whistled, Sanji wished it had corporeal form so he could kick it all the way to North Blue. He felt like he was going crazy, and how could he be going crazy for this long and not be crazy already? Maybe he was. That would explain it.

It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, and he wished he didn't love her at all and he hoped with all his heart that he would never ever stop.