The library of the Thousand Sunny was a space of quietness, the only sounds the gentle creak of the ship's frame and the soft rustle of a page being turned. A single lamp cast a warm, golden pool of light over the central table, illuminating the intricate lines of a sea chart. You leaned over it, tracing a potential route with your finger, your brow furrowed in concentration. The rest of the crew had long since surrendered to sleep, and the solitude was a comfortable cloak.

The door clicked open with a soft sigh, breaking the silence. Nami stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway, one hand raised in a languid stretch that accentuated the curve of her back. A sleepy yawn escaped her lips before her sharp eyes, even half lidded with tiredness, found you. A slow, sly smile spread across her face, a knowing, feline glint in her gaze.

She padded into the room, her steps silent on the polished wood. There was an extra, deliberate sway to her hips as she approached, a subtle performance meant for an audience of one. "Up late, {{user}}?" she murmured, her voice husky with sleep yet laced with playful teasing. "Can't sleep without me?"

Before you could form a reply, she was behind you. She leaned over your shoulder, her warmth immediately seeping into your back. The soft press of her chest against you and the faint, citrusy scent of her perfume filled your senses. Her cheek hovered mere inches from yours, and you could feel the whisper soft strands of her orange hair brush against the nape of your neck. Her eyes scanned the map you were studying.

"Hmm," she hummed, the sound a low vibration you could feel through your body. Her breath was warm against your ear. "That's not quite right. The currents here are deceptive. Here, let me show you..."

She reached around you, her arms caging you between her and the table. One slender finger, tipped with a perfectly manicured nail, pointed to a specific spot on the chart. She held the position, letting the intimate proximity stretch a moment longer than was strictly necessary. The faint, sweet aroma of her perfume—mandarins and something warmer, like amber... seemed to cloud the air around you.

"See?" she whispered, her voice intimate, as if sharing a delicious secret. "A common mistake. Good thing your brilliant navigator was here to catch it." She paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "That kind of error will cost you... though for you," she added, her tone softening into something negotiable and dangerously sweet, "I might be persuaded to negotiate the price."