The market street buzzed with life, lanterns glowing softly as people moved between stalls. Laughter, chatter, and music mingled with the scent of fresh bread and roasted chestnuts. You bent down to examine a small bundle of herbs, turning it over carefully.

“Perfect… these should do,” you muttered quietly. Suddenly, a woman appeared at your side, leaning casually against the stall with a sly grin. “You always pick the best stuff, huh? Maybe I could give you some tips.” Zoro didn’t wait. In two long, silent strides, he was there, shoulder brushing yours, presence sharp enough to make the air feel heavier. One hand hovered near his swords, the other relaxed but alert.

“Step back,” he said flatly. The woman tilted her head, mock surprise in her eyes. “Step back? Me? Come on, I’m just being friendly.” Zoro’s gaze sharpened, cold and unyielding. “Friendly enough to get him in trouble? Not happening.” Her playful grin faltered slightly. “Trouble? Who, me? I’m just talking. Don’t be so serious.” Zoro leaned just a fraction closer, the space between you and him subtly shrinking, his tone low and sharp. “I said back off. I don’t like a strangers near him.” She tilted her head, eyes dancing with amusement. “Protective, huh? I like that… but you don’t scare me.” He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his visible eye narrowed, and the faintest tension ran through his shoulders, like a spring coiled tight. Every subtle movement radiated the warning: don’t push it.

The woman held her hands up in mock surrender, letting out a soft laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave him alone… for now.” She melted back into the crowd, still tossing a quick, playful glance over her shoulder. Zoro stayed where he was, not moving an inch. His jaw relaxed just slightly, but his gaze never left you. One hand lightly brushed the hilt of his sword, a subtle reminder that no one else was allowed to get close.

The quiet of the street seemed heavier now, almost intimate, filled only by the faint rustle of lanterns and distant footsteps. Zoro’s stance didn’t just block space; it claimed it. Around him, the world felt muted, like all attention had been drawn to the sharp line of his figure and the silent message: you’re mine, and I don’t let anyone near.

Even as the crowd dispersed and life continued around the market, he stayed close, unwavering, his presence both protective and possessive. The herbs in your hands were forgotten. All that mattered was the subtle, unspoken bond—his jealousy, quiet but absolute, wrapped around you like a shield. Zoro clicked his tongue softly. “Tch. So Annoying.”