[ It’s impossible for Sanji to hide the concern from his face— lips drawn in a thoughtful frown, eyes intently watching her every expression— as more tears well from her eyes. The idea of being trapped in this place for months with no way out seems as bleak a possibility as he can imagine, particularly given what he’s seen since his arrival. An intense pang of hunger runs through him— another reminder of why he already hated this place, never mind the tears it’s made her spill— but it’s something to be ignored for now, every ounce of his focus on her instead.
Of course I’m okay.
No matter what her voice says— no matter that it sounds like she might call him an idiot for asking at all— his heart says that’s a lie. He knows Nami, remembers the way she gave the map to Arlong to save Luffy’s life while acting like it was nothing more than a casual act of betrayal, remembers the way she icily collected offerings from the villagers at Coco Village all while secretly trying to save them. She might act okay, say she’s okay, but the act doesn’t fool him. How could she be okay? How could anyone be okay after being trapped here for that long? ]
Good. [ Sanji doesn’t call her on it, but the way he says that one word is gentle and full of concern. Tentatively, he presses his palm against the back of her head and lets her keep his face pressed against his shoulder and keeps a tight hold around her. If it gives her comfort to do that, he’s going to let her even as that feeling of unwarranted guilt swells in his chest. The desire to keep her safe— to keep everyone on their crew safe, too— burns strong inside him still and it feels like an unforgivable failure that he wasn’t somehow here with her.
Hearing that it’s just her, Buggy, and Shanks just makes it worse, too, because if she’s going to be trapped her, she should at least have some of her crew with her. There are questions he could ask— like who Shanks is— but when his mouth opens, it’s not to ask them but utter an apology for something that’s out of his control.
And then the elevator door dings open and it’s like walking into an entirely different world than the gauzy, airy decor of the casino. It’s unlike anywhere he’s been in the resort yet and his eyes widen as he takes everything in. He follows, of course, regretful for the loss of comfort and warmth when she slips out of his arms. ]
Where are we? [ He’s still looking around, a thoughtful expression on his face, because there’s one other place he’s been to so far where a door lead to something fantastical, something impossible on the other side, and that’s the suite he’s temporarily been assigned. ] Is, uh, this your room, Nami?
no subject
Of course I’m okay.
No matter what her voice says— no matter that it sounds like she might call him an idiot for asking at all— his heart says that’s a lie. He knows Nami, remembers the way she gave the map to Arlong to save Luffy’s life while acting like it was nothing more than a casual act of betrayal, remembers the way she icily collected offerings from the villagers at Coco Village all while secretly trying to save them. She might act okay, say she’s okay, but the act doesn’t fool him. How could she be okay? How could anyone be okay after being trapped here for that long? ]
Good. [ Sanji doesn’t call her on it, but the way he says that one word is gentle and full of concern. Tentatively, he presses his palm against the back of her head and lets her keep his face pressed against his shoulder and keeps a tight hold around her. If it gives her comfort to do that, he’s going to let her even as that feeling of unwarranted guilt swells in his chest. The desire to keep her safe— to keep everyone on their crew safe, too— burns strong inside him still and it feels like an unforgivable failure that he wasn’t somehow here with her.
Hearing that it’s just her, Buggy, and Shanks just makes it worse, too, because if she’s going to be trapped her, she should at least have some of her crew with her. There are questions he could ask— like who Shanks is— but when his mouth opens, it’s not to ask them but utter an apology for something that’s out of his control.
And then the elevator door dings open and it’s like walking into an entirely different world than the gauzy, airy decor of the casino. It’s unlike anywhere he’s been in the resort yet and his eyes widen as he takes everything in. He follows, of course, regretful for the loss of comfort and warmth when she slips out of his arms. ]
Where are we? [ He’s still looking around, a thoughtful expression on his face, because there’s one other place he’s been to so far where a door lead to something fantastical, something impossible on the other side, and that’s the suite he’s temporarily been assigned. ] Is, uh, this your room, Nami?