Chapter Eleven - You're Haunting Me

Sanji's ghost drapes itself all over Zoro. He could feel fingers in his mouth, a hand reaching through his chest and gripping his heart. Clutching it and squeezing it. The first few months of a breakup has always been hard, regardless of gender, regardless of the kind of relationship they were in. Zoro knew that these things just hurt.

But were they supposed to hurt for three years? Were they supposed to be this painful where Zoro couldn't breathe some nights? Sanji, a name that lingers on the tip of the man's tongue. Sanji, a name that's at the back of his mind every time he enters a restaurant or cooks a meal. Sanji, a name that is on repeat, playing softly in the background. So softly that Zoro didn't realize that the record is stuck and cannot be fixed ever again.

Their hands link together as Sanji presses his head into the swordsman's shoulder. The smell of steel and lust for power fills his senses. In the beginning he remembered hating how little Zoro showered. But now, the smell is intoxicating like strong alcohol. Sanji feels himself getting drunk to the point where he's worried about blurting out the wrong thing. But he isn't sure if it's from that nagging feeling of longing that's in the back or from something else that keeps flashing in his eyes.

"How long are you going to stay in that position?" Zoro asks, irritated for some reason. Looking up, Sanji can see hues of red decorating his cheeks and the swordsman's eyes averting his. He wonders if his cheeks are just as red. Look at me, Sanji thinks, not daring to say anything. Instead, a hint of irritation works its way into the blond's mind. He forgot – or rather he chose not to remember – that Zoro has this ability to pull every single emotion out of him with just one single sentence. Fucking hell.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" The blond snaps back. An irritated face appears upon Zoro, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrow twitch. A million words rest on the tip of his tongue, clicking itself to the roof of his mouth. The brute opens his mouth trying to say something but Sanji cuts him off. "You have to be hungry. Just shut up and relax. I'll take care of everything." He mumbles, "stupid moss head" under his breath. But it wasn't quiet enough.

"What did you say shitty cook?"

Sanji whips his head. "Shut it you Neanderthal, I'm trying to be nice to you! You could at least appreciate it."

"I don't want to eat your shitty cooking!"

"You're going to or so help me god, I will force feed it to you!" He kicks his boyfriend into a seat on the sofa. The man grumbles as he falls backwards onto the leather sofa seat. Sanji walks into the kitchen, grabbing ingredients out and placing them on the counter. He turns his head to watch Zoro just sit there; doing nothing and staring off into his space. He wonder what's Zoro thinking about. Probably training.

The blond chuckles, cutting up half an onion, wondering if Zoro still like white rice and fish. The smell of fish wafts through the apartment after a few minutes. From the living room, Sanji could hear a loud growl of a feral beast within Zoro, dying to be fed. It growls again, this time louder and more demanding.

"Oi! Marimo! Shut your stomach up, it's giving me a headache!"

"Hurry up with the cooking then shit cook!" is the response. Sanji fights the urge to kick Zoro in the head as he slides the hot and juicy fish off of the pan and onto a plate. A big bowl of rice is then placed down next to it with a small cup for sake.

"Hey, stupid swordsman," Sanji calls out lazily. "Your food is ready."

Heavy yet eager footsteps make their way into the kitchen. It feels like a minor earthquake as the blond pours out a glass of white wine for himself. A small bottle of sake sits next to the simple meal that his simple lover truly enjoys.

Zoro plops down and begins digging into the meal like a wild animal who hasn't eaten in months. Sanji's face lights up a bit as he takes a sip of his wine. The taste and the feeling of refinement does make a meal taste one hundred times better. He feels his mouth full with bubbles that dance across his taste buds as he takes the first bite of his own meal. The first excitement that you feel whenever you start anything new for the first time, whether it be eating something new or falling in love for the first time.

Turning to Zoro, Sanji opens his mouth to say something, only to have the moment instantly ruined by the swordsman.

"Your sake tastes like shit," he says, his voice hinting slightly towards sarcasm but it wasn't easy to tell. Not with him at least. Being brutally honest is his trademark, and when he's lying, he averts his eyes, looking away. Sanji stares at Zoro, seeing how his eyes stares at him, dead on.

"You're such a shithead, shithead," Sanji responds taking another sip of wine. This time, there were no bubbles. There were no dances across his tongue. Instead, the two men sit there in silence only having the scraping of knives or forks or chopsticks as their only source of music.

Sanji notices that the second time around isn't as magical as the first. Just like many things; the first time will always be magical. The times after reduces the experience to nothing more than watered down, shitty tasting sake that no one wants but have to endure regardless, because it would be such a waste not to.

AN: Holy mother of all that is good, Lith, you're still alive?! This story is still alive!? Yes, yes it is. So here is the new chapter. I am so sorry I haven't updated ever since February (Holy shit, it's been that long?), but you know how it is. Life gets in the way and you have to deal with that first before anything else. And so, life is over and here is the newest chapter! Hopefully I'll finish this and it wouldn't be like another 50 million years.

As always, thank you so much for the favourites, follows and comments. I look forward to all of them! ^-^