Flood Rains
Poem for
Goths and Guile
~The world is not kind to its heroes,
It can't afford afford to be,
But what is a hero,
Beyond kindness to the world~
Usopp lay in a daze, Perona sleeping peacefully on his chest. And as the heat of passion had left he had slowly been pulling the blankets over their naked bodies. By now it was up at their waists. He ran a hand down the goths mostly naked back. She still had on the pentagram harness. He supposed she had warned him. And he blushed seeing her flat chest. Not the only surprise he'd found. But as she had told him at the moment,
Fear, flee everything and run
Or
Face everything and rise… and she'd said it with a dip in her eyes to his rise. Her hands running up his thighs, her full glory standing proud, in nothing but a harness and fishnets.
His face heated again, swallowed. She had warned him it was a trap.
Equipment apparently mattered less to him than he thought, as he lay drawing lazy circles on her back. She shivered, made an unintelligible noise, her arms squeezing him a bit tighter. His eyes finally closed. Exhausted. He pulled the bright pink blankets up to his chest. And drifted off.
…
"Nami." Perona had both her hands on the leads desk. Nami raised a brow, leaning back in her chair.
"Yes?"
"How much does it hurt?" her eyes were on the tattoos.
"Let me see your arm." Nami held out a hand, and Perona obliged. Nami rolled up the girls sleeve, and pinched the skin hard.
"Ow!" she ripped her arm back, rubbing at the spot furiously.
"About twice that." Nami smiled, "Why, looking to get something?" Perona blushed, and looked away. Still rubbing her arm, and crestfallen.
"Maybe…"
"I thought you hated them? Something about not being cute."
"Maybe i changed my mind. Okay?" She sat in Zoro's chair, the man scowled at her from the printer.
"And what brought out this change of heart?" Nami gently swung herself in her chair, biting the end of her pen. This was interesting. Perona, the porcelain skinned goth, notorious for bragging about her flawless skin was talking about ink. She supposed it was no surprise that she was chosen. Hachi had a few tattoos, including the one on his forehead. But he wasn't a woman, and Nami just didnt see that happening. Sanji supposedly had a tattoo, but the only one who might have seen it, Zoro, wouldn't confirm nor deny it. So he was out. And she did have the most ink out of the office.
"Nothing." she said beet red, sinking onto Zoro's desk.
"Oi!" he called to absolutely zero effect.
"Alright… well if pain is a big factor, my guy Usopp does great work, and he has the lightest…" she stopped, practically seeing the steam lift off the poor girl. "Are you okay?" in reply Perona turned away, saying nothing.
"Oi, come on, i have work." Zoro was behind her now, staring down at her, arms crossed. Again she didnt move. "What's wrong with you today? Another stuffy die or, wow." he had tugged on her collar, and his eyes went wide before narrowing. "Who left that?"
"What?" Nami and Perona shouted at the same time, and Nami batted away Zoro's hand, only to take the girls collar in her own hand, and stared in. a hickey, just there on her collarbone.
"Oh my gods…" Nami clapped once, sitting back in her chair. "Who? is this why you want a tattoo? Its not there name is it?"
"What? No I mean, well…" Perona looked like she was going to bite her lip off.
"Uhuh…" Zoro said unimpressed, then kicked his chair. "Congrats on the cherry pop or whatever, now move out of my seat."
"You brute, you neanderthal, you-!" Sanji rose, "How dare you be so indelicate, she is obviously awash in the maidens glow, can you not for one moment have some common sense to handle things like this with care?"
"Oh my god." Perona collapsed into Nami's arms, who welcomed her with a scowl at the boys, Zoro reving up a reply, while snagging his seat back.
"Stop!" she called, hearing the dramatic crying of the goth. "You've both embarrassed her." She jutted around to the staring eyes.
"Huh?" Zoro and Sanji growled, glaring around the office, and Nami sighed in relief as instantly the office picked up its dull hum.
"There there." Nami pet her hair. "Stop the crying and tell me what's going on."
Nami braced herself on the counter in the break room. It'd taken her last stash of the Baratie chocolate to calm Perona down. And just now she'd said something Nami was sure she had misheard.
"-Usopp? Long nose, black curly hair?"
Perona slid his slick black business card onto the table, the flowy gold script unmistakable, and she sipped the hot chocolate as she did it. All sorts of calm now wasn't she? Nami felt a vein throb.
"How did you even meet?"
"He ran off some bigots last week when i stayed late."
"What? He ran off thugs? He's the biggest scaredy cat I know."
"He is." her tone hit a chord Nami placed between nostalgic and euphoric, and the goth gained a perverted smile.
"Please." Nami waved her hand desperately, her face contorting. "I don't want to know."
Perona huffed and set her mug down with a clack. "But now I have an issue."
"Which is?"
"I want to see him again, but he hasn't called."
"You have his number right there."
Perona gave her a deadpan glare, and gestured to her own whole. "I don't do all of this for nothing. I can't make first contact, my esteem won't allow it… but…"
"But what?" Nami had poured her own coffee now, and raised a brow, seating herself on the counter.
"I, sorta… kicked him out... the morning after… but he didn't even ask for my number, so its not all my fault!"
"Did you give him a chance?"
Perona blushed, but stuck her nose in the air, looking away.
"Not my fault he's slow."
"Perona, what did you expect? I mean, why did you even kick him out? You were glowing last week, even I was a little unsettled with how much you were smiling."
"I was nervous… that he'd… regret it. You know once the knights settled the duel…and the moment was gone."
"Oh." Nami gave out a smile. Itd slipped her mind. That Perona was… certainly wouldnt guess it. "But he was…uh." She coughed. "Receptive right?"
Eager nod.
"Encore after enco-"
"Stop oh gods." Nami shook her head. She took a steady breath and drank her coffee. "Look, you messed up. Now you have to bite the bullet, and call him."
Perona fell to the table, mumbling something Nami couldn't hear.
"What?"
Perona looked up, but still not a Nami, with puffed out cheeks and a pout.
"I said, you like tattoos…"
"Ah…" Nami said, setting her cup down. She got it now. "Perona, would you like to come with me next time i get one?"
"Yes." she was still blushing. "W-when would-?" Nami smirked. Bait and hooked.
"The next time I get two hundred bucks. They ain't cheap." She gave a wink as Perona scowled, and pouted more.
"That's mean."
"You could just call him."
"No! That's so uncute!" she pounded the table with her hands twice, before deflating, thunking her forehead on its surface. "I'll… pay for it..."
Nami supposed she couldn't call the scene ridiculous. Perfection had many, many forms. Expensive, roundabout forms.
"I can't wait. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. And who knows, maybe you'll see Tattoos ain't so bad." that seemed to cheer Perona up some. Enough that Nami felt able to slip away, as she'd noticed the clock. She was gonna be late for her meeting.
Nami had done her very best the three weeks since the meeting. She had kept the distance. Doing so had been costly, as she still used the letters. She had gotten one email from Vivi. The typed up manuscript. and she'd be lying if it didn't look worse, dressed in bland font, and without the script it had been born in. Times was the worst font. As was Arial, and Courier. Industry standard nonsense. If it was up to her, she'd scan the original handwritten script and publish that…
But they had reached an impasse. Nami just couldn't explain it well enough through the letters. She thought she had done an excellent job. But author's were a dozen kinds of weird… Vivi had requested a meeting to have it explained in person. Nami couldn't refuse it even if she wanted to, and she really didn't want to. All the hard work, and she'd jumped at the invitation.
The rains had been unforgiving. And her bike now cut a spray through the street's puddle. She rode slow, battling winds and fighting for her balance. The mid forties temperature wasn't enough to keep off the sweat of exertion as she fought forward to the coffee shop once more. And she decided that today the bike was retiring until spring. She'd have to bring out the bug. She coasted into the parking lot, swerving around a pickup truck, and hit a puddle. It was too deep and she didnt have the speed, she tipped, landing helmet first on the end of the puddle, her leg pinching in pain and she pulled it from under her bike. She groaned, standing and pulling her bike upright from the puddle, turning it off and walking it to a parking spot. Her leg stung when she walked on it. She'd have a bruise for sure. But the water had softened the impact. Didn't save the Galley-La bike from getting a long ugly scratch along the front. Scraping up paint, and scratching the windshield. That was a bummer.
She was still bemoaning it as she pulled the tarp over it, finding one of the magnets had broken, letting part of the tarp flap in the wind, smacking along the chromed pipes, scuffing it up. She took a very deep breath, and pulled more of the tarp out, tying it through the wheel spokes. It looked janky, but it kept more damage from happening. With the bike handled she made for the shop, removing her helmet inside, and standing on the welcoming rug, letting the water drip lessen before she dared move in.
Vivi waved from the corner table, gesturing to a second drink and sandwich at the table already. Nami stomped her boots a bit on the rug, and made her way over. Vivi had grabbed one of the many free four chair tables, leaving room for Nami to dump her helmet on the spare chair, tossing her gloves in it soon after, and finally she unzipped her jacket.
"You know i'm supposed to pay for the drinks right?" Nami asked, settling in.
"Yes, I know. But I was early. So I tried their double-espresso Cocoa-fee, and i demand you try it as well." She slid the drink across the table. Well who was she to argue with that? Nami grabbed it, catching its warm notes before taking a sip. Perfect drinking temperature. Sweet, and bitter. She hummed as it went down.
"You like it?"
"It's really good, thank you."
"I'm glad. My impulse paid off."
Nami kept her smile in place, but felt her eyes narrow. She didn't meet Vivi's gaze, instead moving for her own folder. Could just be Vivi didn't remember the conversation from their last meeting. But the lilt in her voice. The way Nami still felt her eyes. Nami doubted that.
"It did. I think it's a new favorite." she closed her eyes at the same time she faced the girl, and set the folder down, looking at it. She could do this. Focusing on work. Making polite conversation. "How have you been?" She meant to add on something. To be nice, but gently rope in work. But the moment passed.
"Good." her fingers flexed out. "But i've never typed so much before. My fingers still ache." She laughed lightly. "But i suppose that's my own fault for not using it in the first place."
"Why is that?" Nami asked without thinking, seeing Vivi flinch. A misstep. "Not that I mind the letters, your handwriting is beautiful, I just meant… uh" Nami searched the woman's eyes, seeing them soften and she cocked her head.
"It's fine. It's really a silly thing. I really should use the computer more. I know it's so efficient, and i'm sure it's cheaper than the couriers."
Nearly free, Nami thought, whereas each letter with even a modest tip was around five dollars for same-day service.
"I'm sorry, I just blurted that out, you don't have to explain it."
"Yours is beautiful as well."
"Huh?" Nami asked.
"Your handwriting. You have excellent calligraphy. Left handed right?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"Ink smudges. You rest before signing each letter I'd wager. Each one has a little handprint at the bottom left."
Well that was embarrassing. She'd have to watch for that next-
"Its cute." Nami looked up, just as Vivi was taking a bite out of her sandwich. Had she actually said that?
"Thanks… the guy who taught me hated that I was a lefty, tried to get me to use my right hand. Had to work twice as hard. And really it's not much, I only took a few years before I quit. Nothing compared to your's, your line control, the width, and your curves, you've completely made your own style."
Vivi made to reply, but closed her mouth both times, before settling on;
"I don't know what to say...you're very sweet."
Butterflies. Hundreds. Nami couldn't help the smile that spread onto her face. She didn't know what to say either. She couldn't meet Vivi's eyes for more than a few seconds before they landed on her folder. Right, she had work to do.
"Of course. You've put years into the script, it deserves compliments and attention. Just like this book." She took out her pad of notes, and the printed manuscript she had started marking up, the original tucked away in safety at the office.
"Right. About this flaw-"
The discussion had taken a turn to climatic resolutions, and from there had spiraled out into a odd dozen rabbit holes that had taken hours to navigate. Not that Nami had minded too much. The way Vivi took notes, hanging on her words like gospel. And not question shy. Diligent, dedicated. Just so new. Prone to getting the second-look nerves that had sunken so many authors. The slow inevitable, unavoidable approach of the second draft. Where good moments, like jewels, were lost to the sands of common sense. And while ultimately it was always needed, the sacrifice could be too much to bear. But now they were done for the day, leaving the shop.
"Oh my." Nami stopped, looking at Vivi, who had her hands covering her mouth, looking past Nami at-
"What the hell!" her bike had been hit. Smashed in, and lying like a soldier dying in the parking spot. The rear wheel was bent, the seat pushed up, and the rain puddle was a rainbow with leaking oil. "You've got to be kidding me!" she looked around the parking lot, looking for the offender, and found nothing. This was bullshit. Who hit a car and didn't even leave a card?
"Who would do this?" Vivi was at her side, looking over the orange and black mess.
"Assholes." Nami bit. Then remembered Vivi was a client, not a friend. "Sorry, pardon my lang-"
"No, asshole fits perfectly. Though i'm a little relieved." her umbrella raised a few inches and Vivi stepped closer, stopping the rain from pelting Nami's face. "I imagine this weather is dangerous for you to navigate." her ride pulled up to the spot. But didnt turn in. Nami watched the hazards flip on and the man exit. He was tall, black hair at his chin, and broader than Zoro.
"Everything okay?" he asked, walking around the car, unfazed by the icy rain. Vivi made no effort to move the umbrella as he stepped up onto the sidewalk.
"We're fine Chaka. But someone did this."
"Damn." Nami stepped off to the side. Her insurance wouldn't cover this. Who knew the next time she'd find a bike for that good a price again. She'd be stuck cage riding for years.
"On it." she heard the mans deep voice rumble, she looked over, seeing him kick in his cars head light, shattering the glass on the first try. Another kick as he bent his hood.
"What are you doing, that's a million dollar car!" she shouted without second thought
"Its fine Nami. We have good insurance." Vivi had a phone dialing a number, and she passed Nami the umbrella, looping her free arm around Nami's and nodded to the shop, putting the phone to her ear. "Yes hello, this is Vivi Nefertari. Yes. yes, i'd like to report that i've had a collision. Yes, no, full fault. Yes i'm aware. Could you send someone out to assess the costs?"
Nami was on autopilot, she opened the door, letting Vivi slip in front of her, and gave a look back, watching the man assess his workover. He'd destroyed that car without a second thought. She looked to Vivi, for the first time realizing just how close she was. And with a cold shock to her heart she realized that this was Vivi, the man had destroyed the car for her. She was making the claim, and that smooth, flawless skin and silky hair suddenly looked expensive. The kind Nami knew she could never stand up to. The kind of perfection she pretended didn't exist.
Which was a good thing right? Because she was just a client.
…
Robin pushed as hard as she could to close her front door against the wet winds of the storm. She celebrated her success with a flick of the deadbolt, which did more to settle the door's wind-induced racket, then her entire frame heaved on it. She clutched the opaque white plastic bag, that she'd had them double bag. She was thankful the store had only been down the street, with the way the roads ran with water. She set the bag on her table taking off her heavy winter jacket. She'd nearly gone out in the puffy one. Had she done it the winds would have taken her.
The coat went on the door hook, a towel under it, and she unbagged the phone. She had paid the fee to set it all up at the shop. Made good progress on her book as she waited. And now she hesitated to unbox it. Because once she did, she would want to use it. And that is when she would really become the fool.
She scoffed, and crossed her arms. Of course she couldn't have hesitated before she'd braved the storm. Risking life and limb for the damn thing. She planned to make a complaint to the city about their loose stop signs flying about. No, here she was, not bothering to pick the drenched hair from her face, staring at a smartphone. Her keyboard at work was still beige damn it.
Now that she thought back, Franky and her were not so different. His monitor was thick, and he'd had shag carpet. In this day and age? She laughed. Alright. She opened the box. Found the phone option after a minute. She supposed the layout wasn't so bad. She dialed the number. If he was any kind of smart he wouldn't have opened shop. But for some reason she wasn't surprised when the line connected.
"Someone got a phone." she could hear his smirk. She couldn't help it. She laughed.
"You should have stayed home. Its dangerous out there."
"Yeah? Tell me about it. Nearly got decapitated by this stop sign. Almost thought it was an omen."
"But you don't? Why is that?"
"Well you called didn't you?"
"Oh my." She bit her lip. She heard him move, hearing the static from the old curly cord she could just see hanging from his office wall. Heard his door click open.
"You know i'm looking at this car right now. Thinking of these things i want to do."
"And what would those things be?" she tried, pushing perhaps too far. But she was compelled. After all this was just a check up call...
"I want to wash her. Clean her part by part. Take my time to make her like new. Put her together like a phoenix."
"A phoenix huh?" she chewed her lip. "Risen from the rust. Beautiful again?"
"Oh she's plenty beautiful right now…"
"But the rust?"
"Rust is just her doubt. Needs a good shaking off. No, her real problem is the spark plug. Once that fire's snuffed out, it won't come back. So she'll need a new one."
"I see." Robin chewed her lip. "Make sure to order her the best you can."
"You know i will… " This was dangerous. Her nerves must be running late.
"Franky… let me ask you a question." He was silent for a moment. She heard him lean against a wall. Heard the cord on the metal of his doorway. And his voice was lower.
"Shoot"
"Do you think a phoenix keeps its scars?" she held her breath. Listening as close as she could. And she could almost feel the shop's draft.
"I guess that's what makes them mythical."
"Do you suppose that makes them vain?"
"Scars are stories we have no choice in telling. There's nothing vain about wanting privacy."
"And cars can do that? Want privacy?"
"I believe the term vehicle is in the literary world as an excellent metaphor…" he shot playfully, "They take journeys with us. They have moments to hide."
"But as you say, the stories will be told, won't they?"
"If there was choice in that matter, what do you think would happen to someone who paused time, and never went on?"
A chill took to her heart. It felt lonely. There in her little house. Not even a fire lit. she didnt want to answer the question.
"Do you have the shop lights on?" he smirked through the phone.
"Nah."
"You can't even see my car can you?" she teased.
"Not true. I have no problems seeing in the shadows."
"Night vision?"
"Cooler than that. I am fire."
"Fire." she said. And the shadow he never had.
"Fire." he said again.
"One more question then, before i go."
"Alright."
"How much do you plan to burn?"
There was no hesitation as Franky began instantly.
"Enough to burn away her rust, to melt away the ice in her engine, enough to get the spark plug that she needs, no matter how long that takes to track down."
Robin was smiling. But her chest was hollow and she shook. Torn between tears and laughing, but both for good reasons. "What a lovely mechanic i've picked for her."
"What a lovely heart you have, for picking her."
"Goodbye Franky."
"Robin," he hesitated, "...I hope the storm passes soon."
She didn't reply. She thought about it. Nearly did. But she panicked and ended the call. She could think it was nothing. But it wasn't beyond her imagination to think about it. Why did he want the storm gone? Did he want to see her again? Did he miss her? If that was the case, then wasn't that a first?
…
"You've been in a good mood." Zoro froze, but only for a second, continued to make the coffee. Sanji came around his side, mug in hand, leaning against the counter. He tried not to overthink it. Tried not to wonder if it was better to make no eye contact, or to make alot. He hated this phase. When nothing was normal around him.
"Yeah, i haven't told anyone yet, but Kuina is uh…" he smiled, and turned. "She's coming home."
Sanji's eyes narrowed, creasing at the ends as he gave a toothy smile.
"That's great Zoro! That's really great. I'm happy for her, for you both."
"Thanks." Zoro only realized he was still staring when Sanji turned back to the coffee pot. Zoro pressed the last button, and slowly the water trickled past the beans, burning the flavour from them, dropping into the nasty liquid that smelled like paradise. "She wants to come to the christmas party."
"She should. I could take her shopping, get her a dress."
"Oh, yeah." Zoro rubbed his neck. "She'd probably like that." Sanji stared at him a moment, and then sighed. Sucking on an unlit cigarette he pulled out.
"Look, if it makes you uncomfortable then i won't. But you can just tell me, i don't like guessing at what you're thinking and hoping i'm right."
"No she'd like that. I mean, she has a phone you should just ask her. It's just, still, fresh." he waved his hand.
"Its been a month…"
"What, you've already moved on?" Zoro shot out, watching the pot fill. He swore it was going slow on purpose.
"There's no way I can answer that without hurting you." Sanji sighed again. Looking at the opposite wall, chewing his cigarette. It was silent. Zoro didnt respond. He'd almost shouted out. But this was work. And he still had restraint, right? "Its been a month, come get the rest of your stuff. Today."
"I'm busy." Zoro grabbed the pot.
"Make time. Or you'll just keep hurting."
"And why do you care?" Zoro asked harshly, glaring down at Sanji. The man glared back.
"Come get your shit or i'm throwing it out." he left his mug in the sink. Shouldering past Zoro, and digging for his lighter.
"Damn it, Sanji i'm-" the door slammed. Zoro hit the counter with both hands, spilling his coffee. He scoffed. "Great"
Hours later Zoro was hopping out of Sabo's truck, heading towards the elevators with an empty pack. His jeans were already soaked from the short walk, and he never did buy that coat. He should have made a list. He could see that now. In fact, he would make a proper list right after this. Get a coat, separate his laundry from the boys', get his apartment back in order. The elevator opened and he made his way to Sanji's door. His hand went to the doorknob instinctually, but he stopped, and knocked.
"Come in Zoro. it's unlocked."
So he did. He came in, finding the living room was rearranged. More open, less furniture. And the area rug was white now, not brown. He found Sanji in the kitchen, cooking. Nothing out of place or different about that. Except he wasn't wearing an apron. Still in his work slacks and vest., his tie looser, but still tucked away.
"Its all still in the room." he said without looking up.
"Right." Zoro moved on, to the room which was open. The broken hangers were gone, and a quick glance showed that he'd gotten the door fixed. And his sheets were not red anymore. They were blue. A new comforter, even new pillows. And the bed faced towards the window now, not alongside it. It all felt foreign. By design he was sure. But he wasn't sure he had the pride in spare to ask just whose benefit it was really for.
He didn't dwell on it long. He opened the closest, with an easy motion. All the hangers were different, aside from the ones that held his clothes. He took the hangers too. He sure as shit didn't have any spare, and Sanji was gonna toss them anyways. A few shirts, two pairs of pants. A toothbrush and paste. Not much. Nothing he couldn't do without or hadnt already replaced. But he'd known that before coming. He took in a deep breath. Soaking in the stench of cigarettes. He'd missed it. Such an evil thing to miss. Deadly.
Half a dozen things he had said here. Regretted them now. The first thing he had said that night, what really kicked the fight into overdrive, he'd said just to piss the cook off. Sanji had done the thing that pissed him off most. He kept his calm. No emotion, no care or passion, just a dead emotionless monotone. So he'd called him on it. Called him a heartless prick.
Just to get a reaction.
He was pathetic. He zipped the bag closed, taking one last look at the room. Everything he'd ever touched gone. He left the room, and stopped at the kitchen again.
"Got everything?" Sanji said in a monotone. Still not looking up from his food.
"I'm sorry." Sanji grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing.
"What for?"
"About calling you a heartless prick. You're not. And I don't want to be the reason my sister loses a friend. So… I'll think before I talk." Sanji huffed, stirring the soup with his ladle.
"Good."
Sanji said nothing more. Zoro nodded, adjusted the strap on his bag. Made for the door.
"Have a good night, Cook." and he pulled the front door closed.
Along the top he had Kuina, himself, and their book. In second place he had Nami, Robin. The boys. And then there was number three. Goals. 'Think before you talk' was there. 'Beat out All blue' was there. As well as a 'beat Nami's book' but he underlined the first thing, twice. He had half a dozen things he regretted, and he did them all the time. He wrote them down. His chest aching with each one. Thoughts of Sanji all over them. He didn't notice Sabo sneaking up behind him.
He jolted at the hand.
"Relax."
"Get a bell." Zoro sniped, and Sabo leaned over, reading the list.
"If i did, would it look cute?" Zoro felt his cheeks color. Sabo laughed. "Seriously relax. I'm just teasing." he had taken the list now, and stopped laughing.
"What?" Zoro sighed, tossing the pen on the table, leaning back in his chair.
"You can't fight a army all at once." Sabo met his eyes, handing the list back. "If you try and change everything all at once, you'll fail."
"Yeah? That from experience?"
"More than you I bet." He sunk into the chair opposite Zoro. "What's your plan for thinking before you talk?"
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly what i asked. Don't think of it so lightly."
"I don't need a plan, its just something you do right?"
"It is. But how?" Sabo pushed.
"Sabo-"
"More so, I'm curious as to why you have been as specific with your goals as you have. Don't get me wrong they are things I agree you should change, but my agreement is for your own personal benefit. What is your motivation?"
"I need a reason to be a better person?"
"No, but there always is one anyways."
"What are you getting at?" Zoro cut coldly.
"Are you doing this to get Sanji back?"
Zoro huffed, crossing his arms. "No. i'm not."
"But you want him back still, don't you?"
"You know Ace digs a lot less." Zoro barked.
"That's because he is tender hearted. I'm not. I don't care if you cry while I pull you out of your delusions. And i'm warning you now, I will be merciless if I get even the stench of you wanting him back."
Zoro opened his mouth, but paused. Glaring him down as he sucked in a deep breath. "Why the interest?"
"Because you hurting yourself over and over again is hard on Luffy and Ace to watch. But they won't do anything because they respect you too much."
"And you don't?" Zoro cocked a brow.
"I love you Zoro. But what the hell am I supposed to respect about that situation?" that hurt. It hurt more that Zoro agreed with him.
"Nothing." he bit out, folding his list neatly. After all. Sanji had told him the love was gone. The rest was just arguments and frustration. Regret, pain. Guilt.
"One more thing Zoro." Sabo leaned forward, lacing his fingers, and staring at Zoro from under the brim of his top hat. "Just because i'm done with your shit, doesn't mean I don't believe in you. I do. I want you to be happy. But we both know where you haven't found it."