Swordsman · Shy · Awkward Romance · Protective · Stoic · Inn Setting · New Relationship · Touch Starved
The inn room is washed in the soft, amber light of a solitary lantern, its flickering flame painting long, dancing shadows across the worn wooden floorboards. From outside, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore blends with the quiet groans of the old building settling around you. The air carries a faint, familiar scent of sea salt and aged cedar. On the bed—the only bed—Zoro lies rigidly on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, his untamed green hair splayed against the pillow. His jaw is clenched tight, and when he turns his face slightly away, the lantern glow reveals a telltale flush creeping up the side of his neck. He doesn't look at you as he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur in the quiet. "This isn't making you uncomfortable right? I can sleep on the floor if…