Zoro's first mistake was asking Sanji if he needed help preparing dinner. No, that was wrong. His first mistake was asking Nami and Robin for advice. His second mistake was actually following through with what they suggested.
"Get to know him in his element," Robin had said.
"Ask him if there's anything you can do," Nami had added.
They had both promised that walking into the galley and offering his services would definitely put him on the cook's good side. Che, what a load of shit.
"Oi, moron, aren't you done smashing that haupia yet?" Sanji complained from across the kitchen, hands on his hips as he glared at the swordsman.
Zoro met the glare head on. Cradling a large bowl against his chest, he gave the purple mixture inside a good solid punch.
"I'm working on it," Zoro growled out. Honestly, the stupid cook had done nothing but complain and whine about every little thing so far. It was beyond the swordsman why Sanji hadn't kicked him out of the kitchen yet or, better yet, why he didn't just stuff the purple mash into the blonde's face and walk out himself. Maybe this romancing thing messed with your mind.
Yeah, probably.
The sudden screech caused Zoro to jerk in shock and stare wide-eyed at the cook's furious expression.
"Are you using your bare hands?" Sanji cried, fists clenching as if trying to hold back the true anger that bubbled inside. Zoro, against his better judgement, answered.
"…yes?"
That seemed to be the final straw as the next moment Zoro found himself kicked out of the galley with the door shut right in his face. On the other side he could still hear Sanji screaming "Idiot swordsman! Who knows where your hands have been?!"
Later that day Zoro came to the conclusion that yes, romance did indeed mess with your mind because, despite the train wreck that had occurred earlier, Zoro still offered to help with breakfast for the next day and Sanji still gave him a light kiss on the cheek and a mumbled, "thanks, Marimo,"