The sea was quiet that night—just the creak of the ship and the low hum of wind slipping between the sails.

You hesitated only a second before knocking softly on her cabin door. Two years apart, scattered messages, half-finished calls—yet the second she asked you to come… you did.

“Come in,” her voice said from inside, soft and warm.

You stepped in slowly.

The room was dim, lit by a single lantern on her desk. The faint glow flickered against the walls, casting slow-moving shadows. Nami was asleep in the far bed, naked, limbs tangled lazily over the sheets. She was clearly out cold. But your eyes didn’t linger. Because standing just a few feet away, looking right at you, was Robin.

Naked. Unapologetically, stunningly so.

Her hair was down, brushing over her shoulders. Her body hadn’t changed—still soft, strong, thick in all the ways that used to drive you wild. But her eyes... those eyes told a different story.

She stepped closer, slow, careful, her hands wringing slightly at her sides. “I tried to be patient,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I told myself I was fine. That I could wait…”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. The way she looked at you—it wasn’t just lust. It was longing. Pure and honest.

“I missed you,” she confessed, her voice cracking. “More than I should’ve.”

She finally stepped close enough to touch, pressing her body to yours in a slow, desperate embrace. Her arms wrapped tight around your neck, pulling your face to her shoulder. You held her back, instinctively.