[ oh, how he wants to kiss her, for how much sanji, as a chef, finds so much in the way of taste, like every flavor of a person can be found on the surface of their skin, how he can pick it all apart to know them, the same way he can sample a mere taste of a meal and write out every component of the ingredients into a recipe, down to the portions. he can sense the danger in her lips too, and every satisfying burn in his body makes him so eager to take the plunge.
not on the lips.
his eyes peer up to her downcast ones then, quietly, and as she then scribbles out an undeniable truth, he's aware of what comes with it. the way he sees it, he would say he's always serious, that with any woman, he's always ready to give the world if it comes to it, every infatuation less about him and far more about them, and what he could do to keep them at the center of all things. but the truth that she singles out is one he can't argue, even if he wishes it were possible to mend it — this is all temporary, not by his own choice, just simply because it is.
somehow, he's transfixed all the more for it, her lips suddenly so much further away but still an aching temptation, left for him to long for. ]
Not on the lips. [ he whispers back to her, as calmly and sweetly as everything else, her ice not snuffing out his fire, even if it works to tame it in place. it'll always be what she wants, and he won't push to convince her otherwise. ] But I promise, I'm rooting for you to win, too.
[ his smile returns, his hand lifting to rest on hers at his chest, as a gentle caress of his fingertips sliding along from her knuckles to the downward line of her arm, slow and light. when he leans in again, this time he ducks his head towards her neck, refraining his mouth from touching her skin, but letting the tip of his nose graze circles at her throat. ]
What about here? [ he asks, his voice low, nudging teases with his nose. ] Can my mouth play here?
no subject
not on the lips.
his eyes peer up to her downcast ones then, quietly, and as she then scribbles out an undeniable truth, he's aware of what comes with it. the way he sees it, he would say he's always serious, that with any woman, he's always ready to give the world if it comes to it, every infatuation less about him and far more about them, and what he could do to keep them at the center of all things. but the truth that she singles out is one he can't argue, even if he wishes it were possible to mend it — this is all temporary, not by his own choice, just simply because it is.
somehow, he's transfixed all the more for it, her lips suddenly so much further away but still an aching temptation, left for him to long for. ]
Not on the lips. [ he whispers back to her, as calmly and sweetly as everything else, her ice not snuffing out his fire, even if it works to tame it in place. it'll always be what she wants, and he won't push to convince her otherwise. ] But I promise, I'm rooting for you to win, too.
[ his smile returns, his hand lifting to rest on hers at his chest, as a gentle caress of his fingertips sliding along from her knuckles to the downward line of her arm, slow and light. when he leans in again, this time he ducks his head towards her neck, refraining his mouth from touching her skin, but letting the tip of his nose graze circles at her throat. ]
What about here? [ he asks, his voice low, nudging teases with his nose. ] Can my mouth play here?