Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.

Aware

Zoro observed Robin from the crow's nest more than he'd ever care to admit, but it was only after they reunited on Sabaody that he noticed just how often he did it. At first, he figured it was just an old habit. The first time he did it was out of caution immediately after she joined them as they set sail from Alabasta. Back then, he needed to keep an eye on her. She had been their enemy after all. He needed to make sure that she didn't murder any of them in their sleep, especially after she so brazenly listed assassination as one of her specialties. Robin was confident, he'd give her that. He respected her for being so upfront about her talents even if she wasn't with anything else.

Zoro stopped being so wary the more time she spent as a part of their crew, and following what happened on Water Seven, he began watching her out of genuine worry. He made it a point to memorize her quirks and expressions, so that he could see if something was bothering her. Zoro became more than a little paranoid after the ordeal with CP9, but really, who could blame him? They'd been travelling together for so long, and yet none of them noticed the concern that Robin felt all that time. Granted, Robin had one of the greatest poker faces in the world, but still… not noticing, and then having to suffer through her leaving felt like a blow to the chest.

It became habit to make sure that she was doing alright; that her face wasn't hampered down by lines that anyone on their crew could easily make disappear with a single conversation. Crewmates took care of each other, and he was the first mate of the Strawhat Pirates. It was his job to protect those that sailed with them just as much as it was to make sure that Luffy never strayed from the path they all followed him on. So, as far as Zoro was concerned, it was completely normal for him to face her during his workouts whenever she sat beside her flowerbeds to read. It was natural for his gaze to follow her dainty hand as she turned a page or brought the porcelain teacup she'd gotten from who knows where to her plump lips. It was downright ordinary to be able to read the minute changes in her facial expressions.

But, if he was being wholly honest with himself, the power she had to command his attention was outrageous. Robin could so easily narrow his focus to a single point: the wry turn of her lips, her fingers as she tucked her hair behind her ear, her shoulders whenever she laughed—genuinely laughed. Time and experience had granted Zoro the ability to tell at a glance when something concerned her. All it took was the slightest furrowing of her brows, and it would be a dead giveaway. Zoro didn't always do something about it... not directly anyway. Sure, there were times when he'd speak to her to chase away whatever made her frown, but more often than not, he'd nudge Luffy in her direction. Zoro was good with secrets; he knew that they didn't need to be picked at and dragged out of the dark before their time. But Zoro also knew that sometimes it was necessary to chase away all the dark corners in someone's mind, and that was Luffy's strength, not his. Luffy could do it with nothing more than a laugh and the curious tilt of his head. He was such a bright Captain. No one could deny that. What was important was Robin's joyful smile after her boisterous talk with Luffy.

But that wasn't all.

Zoro also knew when Robin found amusement in something not by her snickers, but by the way her eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners. Her amused grin was his favorite. The expression he dreaded the most, and the one that didn't take someone as observant as him to see, was her wrathful face. It was rare, but the few instances that it did make its appearance always staggered him. A storm would rise in her eyes whenever she was angry. Not those minute flashes of irritation that certain obnoxious marines or pirates had a knack for provoking, but properly angry. The bottled, repressed blackness that was her fury drained every ounce of cheer from her being. It rolled off of her in waves like the sinister energy of a man with too much power and not enough patience. And her expression… Ocean's spirits, her expression.

The first time Zoro saw it, he swore that it was dark enough to crack glass. It didn't take a genius to find out that no person—only time—had the capacity to return any semblance of joy to her. There was power in being able to aggravate her to such an extent, but there was shame in it too. Zoro held a personal grudge for anyone that managed to elicit such a response from her.

His grip abruptly tightened over his favored blade, before he forced himself to stop. Zoro gently rubbed the space over his heart, trying to calm it like one might calm a stuttering child. There were no enemies on their ship now, especially not those damned buster-calling Marines. He really shouldn't be getting worked up over his own thoughts.

"Zoro," Robin suddenly called, beckoning his attention like slanted waters abruptly gushing down a cliff. The swordsman was drawn from his thoughts. He reflexively peered down from the crow's nest to find Robin on the deck waving up at him. The strength that her voice had over him was disgraceful.

"Oh, good," she went on, relieved. Her nightshirt billowed tantalizingly in the breeze. "You are there. I thought I'd need to go to the men's' quarters."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. Couldn't she have just used her powers to check? But instead of asking that, he went with a crass, "What do you want?"

She smiled in a way that made the prideful, traitorous thing in his chest pulse like water frozen too quickly. He had little experience with relationships. But he knew enough to realize that if he wasn't careful, whatever feelings were welling up in his chest would overflow and he'd drown in the sheer immensity. Zoro didn't want that. Hell, he hated the mere thought of it. He despised the feeling of his iron discipline slipping away from him; of his control repeatedly splintering into nothing at the sight of her. Zoro hadn't trained all these years to be undone by a woman... and yet...

He shut his eyes for a moment, as if physically pained by the sight of her. When he opened them again, she was holding up a bottle of something she knew he'd never refuse. Robin could be so unfair when she wanted to be.

"I can't sleep," she said, a little too cheerful about the situation. "Do you want to have a drink with me?"

Zoro looked out at the sea behind her. It was stained a navy blue. The color blended with the dark sky. The stars glistened like jewels, casting lovely shadows on the ship, as if beckoning him down to meet her on the deck.

It only took him a second to decide.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, as he swung down to meet her.

Looking at her face-to-face was so much different from watching her from afar. Even maintaining eye contact was something of a struggle. Zoro grabbed the bottle from her in preference. He listlessly read the label. Zoro wasn't surprised by what he saw; Robin always brought him the best stuff. Where and when she managed to get these rare, expensive vintages, he would never know, but he made a mental note to go booze shopping with her sometime soon.

"No," Robin answered, before looking out at the sea. "It just seemed like a waste to spend a night like this sleeping. Besides, alcohol tastes better when you have someone to share it with."

"Now that, I can't agree with." Zoro smirked. "But if you want to hand your booze over to me, then I'm not complaining."

"I said share, not give."

"You shouldn't have let me take the bottle then."

Robin smiled, then drew closer to the ship's rail. She closed her eyes and leaned against it, basking in the unique comfort that his presence brought. That she felt so safe in his company was a point of pride for him.

"You're impossible," Robin muttered.

"You're the one that came to see me."

"I never said I disliked that part of you," she quipped, all love. "On nights like these, you're always my first choice for company."

Zoro's cheeks heated. His scarred heart skipped forward—hard. Zoro felt the beating blood, the working muscle. Always running off like a flock of startled birds.

But for once, Zoro didn't try to calm it. He made a decision then and there, as he took a generous swig from the bottle she happily watched him enjoy, to not try and stop whatever torrent of emotion he felt bleeding through his veins. It felt like stormy wind blown through the eye of a needle; there was so much pressure. His feelings couldn't get out fast enough. It was almost as if they were fighting for dominance, for the chance to be felt more intensely. It actually hurt for a moment, but not as much as how cowardly his constant denials up to this point suddenly felt.

Zoro was no coward.

So, he'd let his emotions run. He'd let them guide him for tonight and see where the currents brought him because his feelings for her had unfurled long ago—there was little use denying that now. He should've noticed it long before this anyway; there was no use trying to still the constant stuttering in his chest because…

That pounding thing already belonged to her.

A/N: Please review.