2
Author's Note:
First I'd like to apologise for the long time it took me to upload this tiny bit of fiction. What happened was life and a great creator's update that crashed my laptop.
As always thanks to my beta Alyah727 and also a huge thank you to all of you who have followed and favorited this story.I'm really glad there are actually people reading and apparently enjoying my story, thank you!
By the way, if you're only interested in one side of the story I'm alternating POV every chapter Robin's being marked by numbers, Zoro's by letters. They don't cover the same szenes though.
Also, from now on, I'll try to upload every other wednesday.
RECAP (because, yes, it's been a while):
1. Robin thought about the changes the crew members went through during the 2 year time skip and pondered the different backgrounds and personalities. Most importantly she elaborated on the deep friendship and understanding growing between her and Zoro. In the end she witnessed that Nami and Usopp tried to keep Luffy from choosing the most dangerous island.
A. Nami and Usopp did not succeed the crew is on the most dangerous island and Zoro is fighting a small enemy with a huge potential for grating on his nerves and playing dirty. He wins but ends up bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.
AND NOW: Robin wants to visit the roughed up swordsman in the infirmary and has bad timing doing it, will this change their chemistry?
2
He was safe, safe abroad the Sunny, in the infirmary and in Chopper's experienced hands. He was even awake by now, after 10 hours of comatose sleep he had finally woken up. He was fine.
She wasn't, she was nervous. Never in her life had she been this nervous. Why? Because the mood was decidedly strange. Something had changed between them, something small and seemingly insignificant and yet big enough to have her giddy like some little schoolgirl. This was an utterly new emotion for her, one she didn't understand or knew how to handle so, instead of working it out like an adult, she fled. She left the infirmary and a discombobulated swordsman behind her to hide in her and Nami's room. Her heart beating frantically as she slid down the wooden door, cheeks tinted pink and her lower belly tingling warmly. How was this happening? After all those years she had thought herself incapable of something like that, had thought that her past encounters had robbed her of the natural drive, the natural interest in carnal desires. She had thought, but as it turned out, all it took was a look at her trusted Nakama in a more serious state of undress than usual. Just one look, it wasn't even sexual, just his pants cut in exactly the wrong place. How was it possible that it flustered her like this? She had not even seen anything, just a tuft of green hair peeking over the destroyed hem of his pants. This was definitely less exposure than when she had grabbed Franky by his jewels, and yet it had her realise his attractiveness with such ferocity that it had knocked the air right out of her lungs.
Dread crept up her spine as she thought about the incident. This was one of the moments she cursed the fact that she had this much knowledge about her Nakama. In this particular instant the knowledge that Roronoa Zoro was an exceptionally observant man, the knowledge that he had seen how flustered she had been and what it entailed. How could they go back to their silent camaraderie when this stood between them? How would he react to her betrayal? After all, she had crossed a line not to be crossed between Nakama. He probably didn't care about her timing, even though, that was particularly bad seeing how he was on the brink of death only hours before she had turned on her heels with a puberlecent blush on her face. What worried her more was how he would act towards a woman, almost 10 years his senior, that got all hot and bothered by his still more than half covered body? He would not be petty. Of course not. Most probably he would just ignore it, like with all the other women that found him attractive. How would she act though? She was mortified. How could she ever look him in the eye again? Could she just forget about it? About the way her body had suddenly lit up, became alive? It had never occurred before, did she even want to forget about it? If he was the only man to ever entice such a terrifyingly intense reaction, did she want to walk away from it? Or should she rather pursue him, find out what else he could make her feel? He could very well be the only one capable. Maybe she would never be able to let anybody else close enough to achieve the same level of trust she shared with this man? Because, if it was trust and mutual respect, unconditional acceptance that was necessary for her to rise above utter frigidity, she knew she would only ever find it within this very crew and yes, maybe only with him.
She didn't know for how long she had been sitting on the floor wallowing in self pity and deep contemplation until Sanji eloquently yelled for the "shithead crew" to eat dinner, followed by the lightest knock and his highest chirps with which he asked if he should bring her meal to her room. Sanji, always the gentleman, if only he knew how close she had come to seeing his friendly rival's private parts. Reluctantly she got up, her usual mask of nonchalance in place. None of her nakama was privy to the turbulent thoughts clouding her mind; except, of course, for Sanji who always knew when one of his lovely ladies were hurt in any way, and the swordsman who sat there, dressed in new, intact trousers, with his head so close to his plate she felt the need to warn him about suffocation. His head shot up, his eye finding hers in an instant, cheeks tainted with a rosy hue that looked oddly good with his green hair. She should not have said that.