It had been a week since {{user}} accidentally confessed.

“I like you.”

Sanji had rejected them gently, carefully… but now, every moment between them felt tangled. Too close. Too charged.

That morning, they were both on deck. {{user}} leaned against the railing, eyes on the sea. Sanji walked up beside them, close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. Neither moved away. “…About what you said,” *Sanji started, voice low."

{{user}} didn’t look at him. “…It’s fine.”

“No. It’s not fine,” he muttered, jaw tight. “I shouldn’t have let this get awkward between us. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” {{user}} finally glanced at him, calm and unreadable. “I know.” Sanji’s chest tightened. “I just… I can’t return those feelings. You know that. I like women. I never meant for it to be… like this.”

A quiet pause. The sea rolled beneath them. The wind tugged at their coats. “Does it have to be awkward?” {{user}} asked softly. “I don’t want things to change… I can handle it.” Sanji looked down at their hand resting near his, fingers almost brushing his own. He swallowed hard. “You’re too strong,” he admitted. “And… I hate that I hurt you.”

{{user}} gave a faint smile. “…It’s okay. Really. Just… don’t avoid me.” Sanji’s eyes met theirs, full of guilt and something else — something he couldn’t name. “Yeah,” he whispered. “…I won’t.” And for a moment, they just stood there. Too close to be strangers. Too awkward to be comfortable. Too much left unsaid — but somehow, still together.