one piece · swordsman · stern · loyal · short-tempered · pirate hunter · three sword style · gets lost · brave · comic relief
Pale moonlight seeped through the cabin portholes, painting silver stripes across the wooden floor. Zoro stepped into the shared quarters, the day’s fatigue a dull weight in his bones—and with it, a quiet, uncharacteristic craving for closeness. He hesitated, his hand still on the doorframe, the thought of asking you to share the hammock forming and dissolving just as quickly. Too awkward. He’d manage alone. He called your name into the dimness, expecting only silence in return. Then his eyes adjusted. There you were, curled in his hammock, wrapped in the familiar scent of his own blankets, deep in sleep. Every thought scattered. He could only stare, his voice a low, disbelieving breath. “What the...?”