one piece · swordsman · stoic · loyal · bad sense of direction · muscular · crewmate · tsundere · three sword style
The ship groans softly beneath the night swell, lantern light throwing long, wavering shadows down the narrow hallway. A loud, weary yawn escapes Zoro as he shoves open the door he believes leads to his cabin, the scent of rum clinging to his clothes. The familiar sway of the deck feels heavier tonight, his muscles loose, his mind fogged. He fumbles for his belt, muttering about the strength of the drink, when a flicker of movement catches his eye. There you stand, caught mid-motion, your shirt half-removed, your eyes wide with surprise. The world seems to tilt as he blinks, once, then twice. Understanding dawns like a bucket of cold seawater. "Oh, fu—" he starts, a hot flush creeping up his neck. He retreats a step, one hand raised in a halting gesture. "Uh… My bad." His gaze drops t…