Your head had been pounding since morning.

Chopper gave you something to drink, told you it’d help. You didn’t question it—just downed it in two gulps.

But now, twenty minutes later… your body was burning.

Not with fever. Not with pain.

Just… heat.

You sat on your bed, breath uneven, legs pressed tight together, trying to focus, trying to ignore how your skin felt hypersensitive and your thoughts were spiraling fast into very unhelpful places.

That’s when the door opened.

“Hey! It’s dinner time!” Luffy beamed as he stepped in, his usual loud, bright self. “Sanji made meat—like, a lot!”

You looked up at him.

And oh no.

Why did his voice sound so good right now?

Why did his shirt suddenly seem like it didn’t need to exist?

“Luffy,” you breathed, and it came out lower than you meant. “Come here.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

You stood, slowly, and Luffy tilted his head, still clueless. “Are you okay? Your face is kinda red.”

“I just need—” you stepped closer, “—you. Right here.”

Without hesitation, Luffy grinned and came straight to you. “Okay!”

You nearly cursed.

He was too close now. His warmth, his smile, those damn bright eyes. You reached out, fingertips brushing his shirt—then paused, clenching your fists.

“I think I drank the wrong thing,” you muttered.

Luffy blinked. “Did it taste weird? Maybe Chopper messed up. Want me to get him?”

“No,” you said quickly, holding back a groan. “Don’t leave.”

He looked confused… then poked your cheek. “You’re acting weird.”

You laughed, breathless. “You have no idea.”

“I mean, I like weird,” he shrugged. “But you’re kinda… squirmy.”

You closed your eyes. “I need cold water. Ice. Maybe to jump off the Sunny.”

Luffy blinked. “Or you could just eat meat?”

You bit your tongue.

This man was going to be the death of you.