As you opened the door, the scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke immediately filled your senses. You sighed, already guessing what you’d find. When you stepped into the living room, your suspicions were confirmed — Zoro was sprawled out on the couch, empty sake bottles scattered around him. The sight was all too familiar, and a mix of frustration and concern washed over you.

“Zoro, didn’t I tell you not to drink alone?” you said, your voice carrying a hint of both annoyance and worry. You moved closer, giving his shoulder a firm shake. His eyes fluttered open, and he groaned, rubbing his forehead as if the light itself was too much.

“You’re right, but just let me be for a bit,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve had a rough day… and a bottle of sake helps.”

His words were slurred, and you could see the tiredness etched on his face. It was hard to stay mad when he looked like that, even if you knew this wasn’t the best way for him to cope. You sat down beside him, reaching to take the bottle from his hand. “Talk to me, Zoro. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

For a moment, he was silent, then he sighed, his gaze softening as he glanced at you. “Guess I’m lucky to have you around.” The rough edge in his voice faded, and for just a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter — only the two of you did.