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Description
“Ah, it smells so good in here!”

“I smell meat!”

“What are you cooking up for us today, Sanji?”

By now, everyone was gathering in the kitchen around the cook, taking in the lustrous smells of pure heaven. Sanji stood over the stove, frying a heap of vegetables in a small pan, tossing them then stirring them around occasionally. He swiftly grabbed the bottle of liquor next to him and drizzled a bit in the pan, creating a towering roar of flames.

From where you were sitting, you could only see the backs of all of the heads in the kitchen: Luffy’s messy black hair bobbing up and down, trying to get a better view of the meat cooking on the back burner; Nami’s sleek ginger hair peeking around the others to watch the vegetables; Chopper’s big head trying to squish through everyone’s long legs; Usopp’s bandana-covered frizz drooling over Sanji’s shoulder. No one dared deny that Sanji was the best cook ever to step foot in a kitchen.

“Alright, everyone,” the cook said smugly, “all I need are plates and silverware and it’s ready.”

Ha, you thought to yourself. You tell ‘em. Make everyone give you some space.

And, just as you’d thought, everyone rushed off to the cupboards and drawers to grab a handful of dishes, forks, knives, and spoons and brought them right back over to the chef. Sanji graciously piled food upon food upon food on each of the platters, then setting everyone free with their own meal.

“_____, I made a special dish just for you!~” he sang, whipping around and presenting you with a plate of assorted seafood along with a pink cocktail decorated with strawberries and lemons in it.

“Why thank you, dearest Sanji,” you said dramatically, giving him an exaggerated bow, “alas, I do not have any hunger to be satisfied.”

He looked at you despairingly, withdrawing the food from your face. You assumed that no one had ever turned down his cooking, so you quickly apologized for your sarcastic behavior and stood, turning to walk out of the kitchen.

The truth of the matter was that you had chronic depression, plain and simple. Everyone on the ship knew about your unwillingness to partake in the others’ activities, and tried their best to accommodate for you, but nothing was cutting it today, not even your favorite cook’s famous meals.

You walked out on to the boat deck, stepping over Zoro, who was snoozing soundly, and walked over to the back of ship that overlooked the island that you were situated at for the time being. It was a quaint town, not too many residents, but enough to be full of excitement and joy everyday. Everyone had made their way into town the day before to stock up on various supplies and such, so the ship was ready to take off in the morning. But, for some reason, you didn’t want to leave just yet. It was too nice of a town to not stay another night at.

You leaned over the rail and admired the scenery, tasting the salty breeze rolling off of the waves that lapped gently against the ship. The sun was beginning to dip deeper into the sky, but not enough to cast rays of different colors off the water. The sails flapped ever so slightly in the sea breeze, creating a steady swish, swish, swish…

You heard the kitchen door open and light footsteps walking towards you, but you didn’t bother to turn around. Eventually, the man stepped up to the railing next you, a cigarette in his hand, ready to be lit.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Hm?” you mumbled, turning to face him, then back to the island.

“The scenery. The town. Everything in front of you.”

He fumbled with his lighter until its small flame reached up to the tobacco-filled paper. He inhaled deeply, then tilted his head back to release the fumes steadily.

“Yeah, I guess,” you replied sullenly. You glanced back at him out of the corner of your eye. You’d never seen him this casual in front of a girl before—he was collected, reserved, ready to strike up an informal conversation with you.

He puffed at his cigarette again, then said, “You wanna go into town one more time before we leave? Just you and me. We’ll go do something fun.” He was now smiling awkwardly, trying his best to make you crack a smile.

You looked at him this time, contemplating if he was trying to get in your pants tonight or if he really meant it. He looked honest, eager to get away from the madness of the kitchen. You gave him one more thorough check to be sure, then half-heartedly nodded in agreement.

“Great!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go tell the others and then we’ll get going.”

He sauntered off back to the kitchen, to your surprise. You eyed him as you went to go prepare the rowboat—he was so relaxed, you almost didn’t believe it. Why is he being so good-natured and cordial towards you?

As soon as you'd gotten the boat into reaching distance, he returned with the same cigarette and composed manner. When he got up to you, he held out his hand and lowered his head, showing off his chivalrousness; you gratefully took it and stepped in the boat. He stepped over to join you, grabbing the oars and lowering the boat on to the rolling waves.

After the boat had been lowered into the water and pushed off towards the island, you turned to face your destination, shifting away from the cook. Your eyes sunk dispiritedly as you folded your arms over the edge of the boat, placing your head delicately on top of them.

“You know, _____, you look much prettier when you smile,” he said quietly after a while.

With this, you returned your gaze to the man. You watched his unwavering eyes behind a veil of smoke as he pushed and pulled the oars through the water.

“I hate how you never smile. It’s very unbecoming, you know.”

“Smiles don’t like to stay on my face. They tell me that they run away because they look ugly on my face.”

He chuckled dimly. “Now, why would you listen to them? Nothing but frowns look ugly on your face.”

You shrugged.

He stopped rowing for a minute and took another puff of his cigarette. You watched his movements, trying to imagine what he was thinking. He was hard to read…you’d never been this confused about a single thought in Sanji’s head before.

“I’m not taking you ashore until you give me an honest smile,” he said after a minute, “nor am I taking you back to the ship. You’re going to be stuck here in this boat with me until you cheer up.”

Ha, this is ridiculous, you laughed to yourself. Nonetheless, you stretched your lips as far as they could go and let out a little giggle to show the cook that you were able to show emotion.

He sat there for a moment, considering to himself if it was a worthy smile or not, then nodded slightly, puffed at his cigarette again, picked up the oars, and began to paddle towards the island again. You kept yourself propped up against the wall of the boat, still eyeing him. Funny enough, your mood lightened at the thought that he cared so deeply for your happiness.

When the boat hit the dock, Sanji stood and stepped out of the boat, holding out his hand for yours again. Once you were safely on the wooden planks, he tied up the boat quickly and turned to face you. You looked up at him as he turned his elbow out to you. You glanced down at his pleated black sleeve and quietly wrapped your arm around his.

I knew he was chivalrous, but I never imagined that he’d be the epitome of a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

He escorted you into the town without a word, not even prominently glancing at any of the pretty women walking about the streets. The two of you passed several residences until you reached the shops lining the streets with inviting lights and music. The air lightened around you and you immediately felt your spirit lift.

“You tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take ya there,” he beamed down at you. His infectious smile overtook you as you began to feel the corners of your lips curling up. You looked around sincerely and found a shop with a yellow facade that almost called out for you to go in.

“Okay, take me there—to that yellow building, Mr. Chauffeur,” you smiled, stretching your arm in that direction. He returned your grin and began leading you to the shop.

Once the two of you stepped inside, you were bewildered at the amount of clothing that furnished the tables and walls. The cutest clothes that you’d ever seen hung from the ceiling, were propped up on manikins, or folded neatly on shelves—you thought it seemed like Nami’s paradise.

No one was in the shop, not even a clerk or cashier, so you dragged Sanji around the shop, gathering a jumble of clothes in your arms as well as giving some for him to hold.

“Now it’s time to try every single one of these on,” you giggled once you had near to twenty items. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Alright, okay, okay, I’m coming!”

Just as the two of you reached the fitting rooms, an employee with funny purple hair entered the shop with a scoop of ice cream in a cone. “Oh, customers! I hope you find everything to your liking! I’m going to go eat my ice cream in that room over there,” he said pointing to a back room across the store.

You laughed out loud at how absurd he looked and how nonchalantly he crossed the store to the room behind the check-out counter. The fact that the people in this town were indeed very interesting made another giggle slip out of you.

You then caught a brief glimpse of Sanji smiling to himself and you knew exactly why—you were happy; you were enjoying yourself and having fun. He did it. He accomplished his mission. He made you happy.

With your twenty or so items, you stopped in front of the numerous fitting rooms and set all of them down on the bench in front of on of them. Facing the small rooms, you smiled to yourself again and slowly dropped your head.

“What’s the matter?” Sanji asked curiously, finally discarding his cigarette. “I thought you were ready to try on all of those clothes.”

Sanji, please…stop being so kind to me. You’re a manwhore, not some guy who actually cares about girls’ feelings! you thought to yourself. You’re torturing me with your civility. You’re never like this…

He walked up behind you, seeing you tensing up all of a sudden. “Hey, _____, are you alright?”

You spun to face him; you stared him in the eyes and asked bluntly, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He looked confused, dumbfounded even. You were so happy a second ago, and then bam, just like that, you’re scolding him for caring.

He paused a moment, mulling over what to counter with. Eventually you heard him mumble, “Am I not allowed to care about the one woman I’m in love with?”

Aw, you’ve done it. You’ve made me smile. You’ve made me cry…

There you stood, only centimeters from him, tears pleading to escape your eyes, your heart wanting to jump out and embrace him, and all you could think of to do was to kiss him. And that’s precisely what you did.

You gently grabbed his scruffy jawline with one hand and weaved the fingers of your other into his shaggy blonde hair. You pulled your face up close to his so that your lips barely brushed his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you as close to him as he could, not a centimeter left in between the two of you.

As your lips pressed up against his, you could taste the stale cigarette he just had in between his teeth; through his soft lips and warm breath, you could also taste a hint of a smile creeping on to his face.

Description
“Ah, it smells so good in here!”

“I smell meat!”

“What are you cooking up for us today, Sanji?”

By now, everyone was gathering in the kitchen around the cook, taking in the lustrous smells of pure heaven. Sanji stood over the stove, frying a heap of vegetables in a small pan, tossing them then stirring them around occasionally. He swiftly grabbed the bottle of liquor next to him and drizzled a bit in the pan, creating a towering roar of flames.

From where you were sitting, you could only see the backs of all of the heads in the kitchen: Luffy’s messy black hair bobbing up and down, trying to get a better view of the meat cooking on the back burner; Nami’s sleek ginger hair peeking around the others to watch the vegetables; Chopper’s big head trying to squish through everyone’s long legs; Usopp’s bandana-covered frizz drooling over Sanji’s shoulder. No one dared deny that Sanji was the best cook ever to step foot in a kitchen.

“Alright, everyone,” the cook said smugly, “all I need are plates and silverware and it’s ready.”

Ha, you thought to yourself. You tell ‘em. Make everyone give you some space.

And, just as you’d thought, everyone rushed off to the cupboards and drawers to grab a handful of dishes, forks, knives, and spoons and brought them right back over to the chef. Sanji graciously piled food upon food upon food on each of the platters, then setting everyone free with their own meal.

“_____, I made a special dish just for you!~” he sang, whipping around and presenting you with a plate of assorted seafood along with a pink cocktail decorated with strawberries and lemons in it.

“Why thank you, dearest Sanji,” you said dramatically, giving him an exaggerated bow, “alas, I do not have any hunger to be satisfied.”

He looked at you despairingly, withdrawing the food from your face. You assumed that no one had ever turned down his cooking, so you quickly apologized for your sarcastic behavior and stood, turning to walk out of the kitchen.

The truth of the matter was that you had chronic depression, plain and simple. Everyone on the ship knew about your unwillingness to partake in the others’ activities, and tried their best to accommodate for you, but nothing was cutting it today, not even your favorite cook’s famous meals.

You walked out on to the boat deck, stepping over Zoro, who was snoozing soundly, and walked over to the back of ship that overlooked the island that you were situated at for the time being. It was a quaint town, not too many residents, but enough to be full of excitement and joy everyday. Everyone had made their way into town the day before to stock up on various supplies and such, so the ship was ready to take off in the morning. But, for some reason, you didn’t want to leave just yet. It was too nice of a town to not stay another night at.

You leaned over the rail and admired the scenery, tasting the salty breeze rolling off of the waves that lapped gently against the ship. The sun was beginning to dip deeper into the sky, but not enough to cast rays of different colors off the water. The sails flapped ever so slightly in the sea breeze, creating a steady swish, swish, swish…

You heard the kitchen door open and light footsteps walking towards you, but you didn’t bother to turn around. Eventually, the man stepped up to the railing next you, a cigarette in his hand, ready to be lit.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Hm?” you mumbled, turning to face him, then back to the island.

“The scenery. The town. Everything in front of you.”

He fumbled with his lighter until its small flame reached up to the tobacco-filled paper. He inhaled deeply, then tilted his head back to release the fumes steadily.

“Yeah, I guess,” you replied sullenly. You glanced back at him out of the corner of your eye. You’d never seen him this casual in front of a girl before—he was collected, reserved, ready to strike up an informal conversation with you.

He puffed at his cigarette again, then said, “You wanna go into town one more time before we leave? Just you and me. We’ll go do something fun.” He was now smiling awkwardly, trying his best to make you crack a smile.

You looked at him this time, contemplating if he was trying to get in your pants tonight or if he really meant it. He looked honest, eager to get away from the madness of the kitchen. You gave him one more thorough check to be sure, then half-heartedly nodded in agreement.

“Great!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go tell the others and then we’ll get going.”

He sauntered off back to the kitchen, to your surprise. You eyed him as you went to go prepare the rowboat—he was so relaxed, you almost didn’t believe it. Why is he being so good-natured and cordial towards you?

As soon as you'd gotten the boat into reaching distance, he returned with the same cigarette and composed manner. When he got up to you, he held out his hand and lowered his head, showing off his chivalrousness; you gratefully took it and stepped in the boat. He stepped over to join you, grabbing the oars and lowering the boat on to the rolling waves.

After the boat had been lowered into the water and pushed off towards the island, you turned to face your destination, shifting away from the cook. Your eyes sunk dispiritedly as you folded your arms over the edge of the boat, placing your head delicately on top of them.

“You know, _____, you look much prettier when you smile,” he said quietly after a while.

With this, you returned your gaze to the man. You watched his unwavering eyes behind a veil of smoke as he pushed and pulled the oars through the water.

“I hate how you never smile. It’s very unbecoming, you know.”

“Smiles don’t like to stay on my face. They tell me that they run away because they look ugly on my face.”

He chuckled dimly. “Now, why would you listen to them? Nothing but frowns look ugly on your face.”

You shrugged.

He stopped rowing for a minute and took another puff of his cigarette. You watched his movements, trying to imagine what he was thinking. He was hard to read…you’d never been this confused about a single thought in Sanji’s head before.

“I’m not taking you ashore until you give me an honest smile,” he said after a minute, “nor am I taking you back to the ship. You’re going to be stuck here in this boat with me until you cheer up.”

Ha, this is ridiculous, you laughed to yourself. Nonetheless, you stretched your lips as far as they could go and let out a little giggle to show the cook that you were able to show emotion.

He sat there for a moment, considering to himself if it was a worthy smile or not, then nodded slightly, puffed at his cigarette again, picked up the oars, and began to paddle towards the island again. You kept yourself propped up against the wall of the boat, still eyeing him. Funny enough, your mood lightened at the thought that he cared so deeply for your happiness.

When the boat hit the dock, Sanji stood and stepped out of the boat, holding out his hand for yours again. Once you were safely on the wooden planks, he tied up the boat quickly and turned to face you. You looked up at him as he turned his elbow out to you. You glanced down at his pleated black sleeve and quietly wrapped your arm around his.

I knew he was chivalrous, but I never imagined that he’d be the epitome of a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

He escorted you into the town without a word, not even prominently glancing at any of the pretty women walking about the streets. The two of you passed several residences until you reached the shops lining the streets with inviting lights and music. The air lightened around you and you immediately felt your spirit lift.

“You tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take ya there,” he beamed down at you. His infectious smile overtook you as you began to feel the corners of your lips curling up. You looked around sincerely and found a shop with a yellow facade that almost called out for you to go in.

“Okay, take me there—to that yellow building, Mr. Chauffeur,” you smiled, stretching your arm in that direction. He returned your grin and began leading you to the shop.

Once the two of you stepped inside, you were bewildered at the amount of clothing that furnished the tables and walls. The cutest clothes that you’d ever seen hung from the ceiling, were propped up on manikins, or folded neatly on shelves—you thought it seemed like Nami’s paradise.

No one was in the shop, not even a clerk or cashier, so you dragged Sanji around the shop, gathering a jumble of clothes in your arms as well as giving some for him to hold.

“Now it’s time to try every single one of these on,” you giggled once you had near to twenty items. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Alright, okay, okay, I’m coming!”

Just as the two of you reached the fitting rooms, an employee with funny purple hair entered the shop with a scoop of ice cream in a cone. “Oh, customers! I hope you find everything to your liking! I’m going to go eat my ice cream in that room over there,” he said pointing to a back room across the store.

You laughed out loud at how absurd he looked and how nonchalantly he crossed the store to the room behind the check-out counter. The fact that the people in this town were indeed very interesting made another giggle slip out of you.

You then caught a brief glimpse of Sanji smiling to himself and you knew exactly why—you were happy; you were enjoying yourself and having fun. He did it. He accomplished his mission. He made you happy.

With your twenty or so items, you stopped in front of the numerous fitting rooms and set all of them down on the bench in front of on of them. Facing the small rooms, you smiled to yourself again and slowly dropped your head.

“What’s the matter?” Sanji asked curiously, finally discarding his cigarette. “I thought you were ready to try on all of those clothes.”

Sanji, please…stop being so kind to me. You’re a manwhore, not some guy who actually cares about girls’ feelings! you thought to yourself. You’re torturing me with your civility. You’re never like this…

He walked up behind you, seeing you tensing up all of a sudden. “Hey, _____, are you alright?”

You spun to face him; you stared him in the eyes and asked bluntly, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He looked confused, dumbfounded even. You were so happy a second ago, and then bam, just like that, you’re scolding him for caring.

He paused a moment, mulling over what to counter with. Eventually you heard him mumble, “Am I not allowed to care about the one woman I’m in love with?”

Aw, you’ve done it. You’ve made me smile. You’ve made me cry…

There you stood, only centimeters from him, tears pleading to escape your eyes, your heart wanting to jump out and embrace him, and all you could think of to do was to kiss him. And that’s precisely what you did.

You gently grabbed his scruffy jawline with one hand and weaved the fingers of your other into his shaggy blonde hair. You pulled your face up close to his so that your lips barely brushed his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you as close to him as he could, not a centimeter left in between the two of you.

As your lips pressed up against his, you could taste the stale cigarette he just had in between his teeth; through his soft lips and warm breath, you could also taste a hint of a smile creeping on to his face.