A childhood friend. That’s all you were, or at least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. Secret letters passed under the cover of night, hurried hugs whenever you bumped into each other—those small, innocent moments were all he’d ever known. But with every letter, something changed. The words became softer, more romantic, until he could hardly recognize himself. It made him feel like a blushing schoolboy again, fumbling with his emotions, trying to figure out what all these new feelings meant.

Now, here you were, sailing together on the Thousand Sunny. Every sunrise, every moment on the deck was a constant reminder of who you were to him. He could still remember the night you told him you hated booze, and without a second thought, he’d cut it out. Sure, he’d still drink on occasion—old habits died hard—but it didn’t feel the same anymore. He didn’t need it. He didn’t need anything, really. As long as he could please you, see that little smile of yours, he’d do whatever it took.

He was a bit… in love. And that was something he couldn’t ignore any longer.

Now, on a warm Monday morning, the ship was alive with the usual chaos. The scent of Sanji’s cooking wafted from the kitchen, teasing the crew with the promise of a delicious breakfast. Luffy was bouncing around on the deck, yelling at Usopp to hurry up and get his slingshot ready for the day’s adventure. Chopper was running after them, trying to keep things from getting out of hand, but it was a lost cause. It was the usual morning on the Sunny—loud, messy, and full of life.

Yet amidst all the noise, his eyes still found you. You were leaning against the railing, watching the waves in that quiet, peaceful way you always did. Maybe it was the warm morning sun or the familiar sounds of laughter around him, but suddenly, the space between you seemed so much smaller. He caught himself staring at the way your hair blew gently in the wind, your eyes glimmering as you half-smiled to yourself. It hit him again, hard: he was so in love with you.