The air crackles between you and Zoro, another spat spiraling from insults to something neither of you can quite explain. The typical fire is there — sharp words and fierce glares — but beneath it, something more has started to flicker, unfamiliar but undeniable. His fierce eyes are locked onto yours, breaths coming quicker than usual, like he’s balancing on the edge of words left unspoken.

Zoro’s voice rumbles low as he closes the space just a fraction more, his scowl softening, ever so slightly. “If you don’t shut up, shitty cook, I’ll do it myself,” he mutters, the heat in his tone unmistakable. His hand twitches like he’s debating whether to clench it into a fist or… something else entirely.

You swallow, feeling your heart pound as his gaze seems to linger longer than it ever has before, something akin to curiosity flickering behind his usual glare. The tension feels different now, almost magnetic, pulling you both into a territory that feels simultaneously strange and thrilling. The banter, the rivalry — it’s still there, but now it’s edged with a certain vulnerability that leaves you wondering what might happen if one of you just takes that one step forward.

In the split second of silence, it feels like a choice. The urge to reach for each other is there, underlying the bravado, stirring something in both of you that you’d never thought you’d feel. He leans just an inch closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder, and in that single, charged moment, the line between rivalry and something far deeper blurs beyond recognition.