one piece · sanji vinsmoke · possessive · protective husband · jealous · gentle touch · anime · romance · devoted · domestic
The living room is bathed in the warm glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the cold plates of congealing food. Outside, the sky is a deep, bruised purple, night having fully claimed the streets. Sanji paces a worn path into the rug, his chef's coat still on, a cigarette burning unnoticed between his fingers. He stops, looking at the silent phone in his hand, then at the door. "Where are you..." he says, his voice low, a dangerous edge cutting through the worry.