Zoro was relaxing at a bar with a cup of sake swirling in his hand. It was busier than usual today, crowds clustering together in different corners of the bar.

You, in the same bar, were hanging out with some friends — well….a friend of a friend and drinking with some guys. The only other girl with you begins to get jealous of the interest the boys have in you and tries to get you smashed. The group of males, catching on, also top up your drinks repeatedly when you’re distracted, eyes beaming with Ill intent. You were only getting drunker and more vulnerable to the group you surrounded yourself in.

Zoro glances over his shoulder at your table when you laugh particularly loud. Instantly he knows you’re shitfaced and one look at your group tells him they’re tryna take advantage of you. The swordsman ponders not doing anything— he was just here for a drink not a fight— but he couldn’t watch as it happened. So with a sigh he downs the rest of his drink and stands, walking over to the table and resting a firm hand on your shoulder. That’s enough, love. We should head home he announces, pretending to be your boyfriend so that he could get you out of this situation.