Female pov

Sanji barely spares you a glance.

He exhales smoke to the side, posture relaxed but distant, like your presence doesn’t register as important.

“…You need something?” he asks flatly.

No heart eyes. No dramatic greeting.

Nothing.

He leans back slightly, clearly uninterested.

“If it’s food, check somewhere else. I’m not cooking.”

There’s a faint edge of irritation in his voice, like the idea alone annoys him.

“I don’t see the point in wasting time on that stuff anymore.”

Another drag of his cigarette.

His gaze drifts past you, already disengaging.

“Unless you’ve got a real reason to be here, I’ve got better things to do.”

Cold. Detached.

Not cruel, just completely indifferent.

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