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It’s too damn stuffy.
The air is thick with bodies and stale chatter that drifts through the humid air. The flashy dresses that clad the women reflect the bright lighting from the chandeliers, brightening the room more than should be possible. The portions are tiny, seemingly for a child at first glance, and Luffy’s two seconds from swallowing the kitchen whole. The booze is shitty, too.
Yeah, Zoro’s over it.
He slumps in his seat, fingers toying with the top two buttons of the dumb dress shirt Nami squeezed him into, popping them open. His blazer has fallen around his shoulders lazily, the tie that was forced around his neck shoved into his pocket. This isn’t his scene at all.
When a banquet was first suggested, he was more than elated. Food, alcohol, music– that was up his alley. The moment Nami had thrown an old suit at him she found at some store in the town they’d saved, his happiness blipped out of existence. Zoro and suits aren’t a good pair; his preference for loose and comfortable clothing completely erased any desire to wear form fitting clothing, such as suits, at any given moment.
As his eyes wander, he notices your absence, merely by the lack of your presence beside him. You had been completely silent, wallowing in your own misery. You’re like him in these types of situations: bored, tired, and in desperate need to be intoxicated and in your own space.
Zoro rises, set on finding where you’ve gone off to. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve left, you’ve got a habit to up and leave whenever you please with no warning. He looks in hallways, up the stairs, in coat closets, behind the bar, and in the ladies’ bathroom, where a shoe is thrown at his face. He could’ve spared that one, maybe.
A draft flows through the room, Zoro’s eyes gearing towards the source. A balcony rests beyond two dark oak doors, standing proudly with their stained glass windows. Underneath pale moonlight is a figure, a shape so ingrained in Zoro’s brain his legs move towards it before he can think about the action.
He stands in the doorway for a moment, his eyes cast on you. Your head is turned up towards the sky, the moon swaying high in the midnight sky above you. The evening gown you wear pools around your ankles, save for your right thigh which peaks from the slit that curtains it. He allows his eyes to trace your thigh, your hips, your waist, your defined shoulders and neck–
“Can I help you with something?”
Zoro’s eyes nervously flit back to your head, though he’s relieved to see you haven’t turned around. He’d rather be caught dead than staring.
“Breeze feels nice,” He comes up beside you, arms folding on the banister despite the uncomfortable tug of his jacket against his elbows. “Needed a break from everything in there.”
You simply hum in response, keeping your gaze trained above. His fingers toy with the cuffs of his shirt that sprout from his jacket like blooming petals, dragging deft fingers over and over the buttons that hold them together. He likes the silence between you two, he thinks; there’s no pressure to speak, or constantly entertain. It’s relaxing.
“Do you know what phase the moon is in, Zoro?”
He peers at you from his peripheral, then up to the sky. The moon isn’t full yet, but it’s on its way there for sure, white spreading through the sky. It’s a waxing gibbous; he remembers you pointing it out a while back. He shakes his head.
“It’s a waxing gibbous. That means the full moon will come out in a couple of days.”
It may seem meaningless, but he finds that he enjoys it when you talk about the moon. It’s not the first time you’ve pointed out the phases, but he’s not gonna stop you. He likes the way your grin glows and your eyes sparkle, though sometimes he can’t tell if it’s the stars or not. Your voice rises an octave when you talk about things you love, most notably the moons and the stars, and the way you’ll skip over words or speak too fast that your words slur together into some sort of slurry makes his heart lurch .
“And the constellation,” you add, pulling Zoro from his own lovesick thoughts, “That one’s Ursa Major.”
You begin to tell off the myth behind the pattern of stars, and he tunes in. God, he’s probably heard this one twenty times, but a twenty-first won’t hurt. He doesn’t notice your delicate fingers wrapping around his wrist as you drag it towards the sky, prying a finger from his closed hand to point.
Slowly, your fingers encase his own, his heart beating against his ribs. You guide his hand as you speak of the legend, tracing the constellation with him, grazing every star and imaginary tightrope that connects them to form that imaginary bear. His mind’s gone blank, your sweet voice echoing in his brain, your soft skin against his rough terrain makes his skin tingle up his arm, and he’s afraid he’s paralyzed.
“Zoro?”
Zoro’s gaze unfreezes, finding your own, as you peer up at him. He gulps, trying to force down the lump that forms in his throat, unsure of its purpose. Minx , he thinks. The smirk that tugs at your lips betrays the beautiful act your eyes perform of feigning innocence, your hand still wound around his own. It’s like you want him to crack, to savor your lips until you’re drowning in each other.
So he does.
He pulls you against his chest, capturing your lips in an instant. Your smile grows against him as you kiss back, sliding your hand down his wrist until your deft fingers dance below his blazer, gliding over his toned waist. He feels like he’s soaring. You taste like that poor alcohol that was being served, but somehow because it lays on your tongue, it’s sickeningly sweet , and he can’t help but want more. His resolve has completely crumbled, something he’s worked so hard to maintain, all because of the sweet yet dangerous girl that boarded their ship months ago.
He won’t let you off easy, but that can wait.
You pull from each other, heavy, rapid breaths fanning over each other’s lips. Your tongue dances about your own before your eyes flick up to meet his, your breath hitching as you find softness beneath the deep black that rests in his iris. His eyes are beautiful, you notice, honeyed constellations dancing within the darkness.
“You got me.”
You grin. “I got you.”
Zoro groans dramatically, his head falling against your shoulder. You laugh, arms wrapping around his waist to pull him against you. “Fuckin’ minx you are.” he complains, muffled by your skin.
You shrug. “Was waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack.”
He glares up at you, a frown tugging at his lips. “I’m never talking to you again. Consider this done.”
You roll your eyes as he shuffles back towards the door. Drama queen . Your hands catch his wrist again before you tug him back, his surprised grunt being silenced as you kiss him once more. Zoro’s quick to melt into it, large hands gripping your hips and tugging you impossibly closer. He can’t get enough of you, and he already knows it’ll get worse from here.
He pulls back and frowns. “I hate you.”
You grin, searching his gaze. “You wish, lover boy.”
Before he comes back in to claim you once more, you find those constellations in his eyes. No wonder he was able to make you fall for him.