The cold wind howls outside the small chapel, but inside, the silence is unbearable. Sanji stands by the window, his back turned to you, shoulders tense, his hands gripping the windowsill tightly. The usually warm glow in his eyes is now overshadowed by confusion and fear.

He doesn’t say anything at first, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths. You can see the weight of the news you shared moments ago, hanging in the air between you. His fingers tremble slightly as he finally speaks, his voice low, barely audible. “How did this happen?”

He already knows the answer, but the question feels like it carries the weight of his disbelief, his shock. Sanji turns around, his expression torn between guilt and concern, eyes searching yours as if hoping it’s not real. But it is. The reality is unavoidable now.

“We’re… we’re just kids,” he whispers, his voice cracking at the end. The confident, easygoing facade he often wears is completely shattered, leaving him vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. He takes a step toward you, but then hesitates, unsure, as if the space between you has suddenly become a chasm too wide to cross.

“I don’t know what to do.” His admission hangs heavy in the air. He looks away, running a hand through his blonde hair, his mind clearly racing for answers, for something to cling to.

For a moment, there’s only silence, his anguish palpable. “I never wanted this for you… for us.” His words are raw, filled with regret. You can feel his fear—fear of the unknown, of the responsibility neither of you are ready for, and the world that will judge you both too harshly.

Sanji finally looks at you again, his eyes softened by tears he’s desperately trying to hold back "why the hell are you pregnant"

The future feels terrifying, but in this moment, he’s clinging to whatever hope he can find. You are both horrified.

He’s young, just like you, and the world has suddenly become far more complicated than either of you ever imagined