With her sweetened breath [ONE PIECE]

7 - ADAM AND EVE

Leaving baratie was harder than she had thought. she didn’t expect for them to hold onto her as much as they had done, cling into her hand like a toddler would with a pitiful pout and fake tears streaming down their face.

It was odd to say the least, to see big brute men with arms as huge as her head beg for her to stay even just for one day, and like a child being denied of their sweets, they had whine and sniff when she had said no.

She had stayed with them for 3 days, should be only 2 but when she saw Sanji’s flushed cheeks and tearful eyes she had decided that another day wouldn’t hurt. She hates it to admit it but, she’s weak when it comes to pretty men. Specially so if their begging.

Zeff had given her an earful on her first morning, all yell and spits, a few hits on the head and a good kick on her guts.  She made sure that Sanji wouldn’t see, she didn’t need the pretty cook to be beaten alongside her – god knows the man can be pretty weak when it comes women, she didn’t need for him to act like an honorable knight and defend her idiotic deeds and shield her from the head cook’s wrath.

The day of her departure sanji didn’t shed a tear, nor did he call her one of the fond nicknames he had made for her. He only called her by her name and yet every letter of every word drip with sweetness like a fresh honey straight from its comb, the adoration louder than the waves below, his tone soft like a poet would be.

Y/n had never heard someone uttered her name in such gentleness, how the tip of his tongue seems to caressed every syllable as if she was a walking god.

How tender he held her scars littered hand on his palm and say the softest goodbye, how his thumbs caressed every bumps and curves and callouses he could find as if trying to admire and stick it to his mind.

As if trying to memorize her one last time, trying to embed her image deep within himself like a sick tattoo or a favorite song.

Y/n shook her head, fallen hair hitting her eyes. Desperately trying to shook his thought away from the golden hair cook.

She will see him again, she doesn’t know when but she will, she’s sure of it.

And so with her mind clouded with a promise she doesn’t know how she will keep she had closed her eyes, shielding her away from the prying eyes of the glimmering stars and the glaring moon.  Letting the darkness cradle her to sleep and the harsh cold wind of the sea to lift her onto a world of dreams where she can hopefully glimpse of her old life that’s now starting to slip away from her palm like blowing petals.

And so with the darkness of the night and the sound of the crashing waves she was finally asleep, and at that night she had dreamt of the kind eyes of her good father and the old song he likes.

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Y/n L/n thrives on awkward situation. she likes the humor that hang silently whenever it occurred, it was oddly hilarious and entertaining to watch when people fidget and desperately try to save a conversation out of the boney fingers of uncomfortableness and pregnant silence.

Well, except right now..

Right now she’ll give anything she has and more, if it means she could be anywhere but on her small boat and away from the piercing golden eyes of Dracule Mihawk.

The shichibukai held an aura similar to an old forgotten famous book, elegant and mysterious. Like you cannot be near him without staring for a little too long, as if your eyes have a mind of its own and seemingly seek the sight of him and him alone.

He was captivating, terribly so. The beauty of his could rival the moon, pale as it was and equally endearing.

He looks like he smells of harsh cologne and fresh watery roses, like leather and burning papers, like fresh rain and crackling furnace.