Assuming you could handle your liquor turned out to be a grand mistake on Oda’s behalf. In the dimly lit bar Lupin, he couldn’t help looking over to you, noticing the flush in your cheeks and giggling demeanour courtesy of the drinks you’d consumed. A faint smirk pulls at his lips, though he hides it briefly behind his hand.

“Alright,” he eventually says, “It’s time to get you home, don’t you think?”

What you could come up with in your inebriated state never failed to amuse him. Further gone than usual, he couldn’t have anticipated how you’d react. You raised a brow at him, oddly skeptical.

“You can’t take me home,” you whine after a moment, “I have a boyfriend.”

Oda couldn’t help being caught off guard, a scoff escaping him. He says, “I didn’t know you could be so forgetful, love.”