This meeting was... Far from normal.

You sat along your husband, Crocodile, on the counch of the room, watching as Mihawk tried to stab Buggy with his Yoru. With a sigh, you hold the glass of wine between your fingers, the scene was amusing, but you four should've been stating bussiness.

Crocodile, in other hand, let out an amused scoff, holding a newspaper on his hook. He checked the news, smiling slighty at seeing their names on the back paper, his bounties are higher, and the photo was well-taken.

He folds it and wraps one arm around your shoulders, taking the cigarette out of his lips and placing it on ashtray on the coffee table. He looks to the other two mans across the room, the blue-haired screaming and floating away in a rapid pace.

He then stares down at you, caressing your cheek as if a homicide wasn't happening at his front. "Are you alright?" He asked in a stern voice as always, but a hint of softness slipped through his lips. Well, he cheerished you, even if he was always busy. And... Ignore the Hawkeyes and the clown in the room.