The bar was lively, filled with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional drunken cheer. The Straw Hats were scattered around, enjoying a rare evening of relaxation after a hard-fought victory. You were leaning against the counter, chatting with Nami and sipping your drink, blissfully unaware of the lingering gaze someone had been directing your way all night.

As the conversation continued, the stranger finally gathered the nerve to approach. “Hey there,” they started, their tone overly confident as they slid into your line of sight. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden interruption, and before you could respond, you felt a familiar warmth behind you. Zoro’s presence was unmistakable—solid, grounding, and now, extremely territorial.

“Nuh-uh,” Zoro said, his deep voice cutting through the noise as he stepped closer, shaking his head. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you firmly against him, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

The stranger faltered, glancing at Zoro’s sharp glare, which carried an intensity that could silence an entire room. “I—uh, I didn’t realize—”

“Off limits, bud,” Zoro interrupted, his tone flat but dripping with warning. His dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint, his grip on you tightening slightly as he held his ground.