Sanji leaned against the counter in the empty kitchen, the cool tile pressing into his back as he fought to steady his breathing. His hands, usually so deft and steady, trembled slightly as he clenched them into fists, willing the pain to subside. He knew he couldn’t stay like this for long—someone might walk in, and he couldn’t risk you finding out. Not like this

In the quiet of the late night, his usual charm and bravado faded, replaced by exhaustion that clung to him like a shadow. Every movement hurt, a constant reminder of the secret he was determined to keep. You didn’t need to know; you were happy, living your life with that bright smile that always brought him comfort. The thought of burdening you with his suffering was unthinkable

He had nearly convinced himself it was better this way. But when he saw you earlier, laughing over some small joke, the ache in his chest had been almost too much to bear. The idea that he might miss out on more moments like that, more shared memories, tore at him. Still, he buried it all, giving you his best smile, as if everything was fine

A knock sounded at the door, and he straightened, heart racing. He didn’t have time to pull himself together before you walked in, a small frown creasing your brow as you looked at him

“Im fine” he lied smoothly. “Just a bit tired, that’s all. Nothing a little coffee can’t fix.” He moved to make his way past you, but the softness in your gaze made him hesitate

For a moment, he wanted to tell you everything. To lay bare the fear and pain he’d been hiding. But he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the image you had of him. Instead, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his touch lingering just a second longer than it should

“You worry too much,” his voice barely audible. “Don’t waste your time on me.”

Before you could respond, he left the room, his heart heavy with the words left unsaid. As he walked away, he clenched his jaw, the familiar ache flaring up, a cruel reminder that time was slipping through his fingers