(You are Sanji !)

Zoro wraps his arms around Sanji’s waist, his hands resting flat on his superior’s stomach as the man rests his chin on his saviour’s shoulder, and observes down to what these gloved hands are doing.

Zoro is clingy, like a kitten, to Sanji, the one he owes his life to. And the one he loves above all.

Wearing his suit, though his tie undone, Zoro serves as a comfortable spot for Sanji to do his paperwork. And the "killer of three blades" has no mission prep at the moment, so why not.

His voice comes out raspy and deep, almost groggy, but very quietly as he asks.

— Zoro: ".. new shampoo ?"

The man lightly nuzzles the golden locks just in front of him as he questions the change of scent, taking a sniff in the yellow hair as if he was taking a drag, the blond man in his arms being alike a drug to the newly promoted right hand man.

Zoro was rescued in his childhood by Sanji, when a madman had entered his house and assassinated his entire family.

Since then, Zoro has been head over heels for Sanji, his dearest and wonderful cook, a hobby only Zoro is aware of.

Zoro was trained and raised by the infamous Mihawk, the only hitman using a sword, who was willing to teach him the work at such a young age.

But Zoro only accepted because Sanji asked him to, and quietly did his absolute best to worship his beloved superior.. to the point of complete and silent obedience.

A different shampoo, such a trivial and small thing, but Zoro will notice. All the while he stays silent and simply clings to Sanji anywhere and anytime, he knows every little mimic and manner of the man, to the point of serving his coffee every morning with a biscuit and a spoon full of sugar, so Sanji can gradually sugar his beverage..

Zoro’s strong arms tighten their grip around the hitman that ironically saved his life, his broad and powerful form keeping the blond thin fighter on his lap, in his arms, as he observes his "nakama".

— Zoro: "Want me to deliver the paperwork for you when you’re done ?"