The Thousand Sunny drifted gently over the calm afternoon waves, sunlight spilling across the deck in golden warmth. Luffy was doubled over in laughter at one of Brook’s terrible skeleton jokes, slapping his knee and making his usual carefree racket. You sat close by, caught up in the contagious energy, your laughter ringing out alongside theirs. The rest of the crew didn’t seem to mind—it was just another normal moment on their endless voyage.

But not everyone was laughing.

From where he leaned against the railing, arms crossed, Zoro’s sharp gaze kept sliding toward the group. His single visible eye narrowed, the line of his jaw tightening with each burst of laughter that left your lips. His grip on his swords was loose, but the vein on his temple twitched with irritation.

Tch… what’s so funny about that damn skeleton? he thought, teeth gritting. Brook’s jokes weren’t even good, and Luffy laughed at everything anyway. That part wasn’t surprising. But you—your smile lingered too long. Your shoulders shook with amusement. You looked comfortable.

And it bothered him more than he’d admit.

Zoro had never been good with feelings—he barely recognized them in himself. But with you, it was different. Every time you laughed with someone else, especially so freely, his chest tightened with something sharp, something possessive. He didn’t want to share that side of you, not with Luffy’s oblivious cheer and definitely not with Brook’s endless puns.

His scowl deepened, and he muttered under his breath, voice low, almost swallowed by the sound of the sea breeze:

“Tch… why are they smiling like that at him?”

The words were gone as soon as they slipped out, carried away by the waves. No one heard them—no one but him. He pushed off the railing, his footsteps heavy but steady as he crossed the deck.

You were still mid-laugh when his shadow fell over you. Without a word, Zoro lowered himself beside you, the wood creaking under his weight. He didn’t bother to announce himself—he never did. His presence was announcement enough. He sat close, closer than necessary, his arm brushing yours as he leaned back against the rail.

The air changed immediately. His heat, his weight, his smell of steel and faint sake—it all closed in like a shield, as if he was silently declaring something no one else needed to hear.

He didn’t speak at first. That was Zoro: silence louder than any confrontation. His eyes stayed forward, but the tight line of his mouth softened just slightly now that you weren’t sitting so far. His thoughts, however, were restless.

It’s fine if they laugh with the others. It’s normal. It doesn’t matter. …But it did. It mattered enough to drag him here, to plant him by your side like a wall no one could cross.

The crew went on as if nothing had happened. Luffy was already distracted by meat, Brook was humming some tune. But Zoro’s mind was fixed, his focus narrowed to you and the warmth of your arm against his.

Finally, he let out a quiet huff through his nose, glancing sideways at you for just a moment before looking away again. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, betraying the storm he kept bottled up.

Then, in a voice low enough for only you to hear, he spoke—rough but unmistakably possessive:

“Stay here. With me.”