did it touch your heart (One Piece, Zoro/Sanji, Nami/Usopp)
Title: did it touch your heart
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji, Nami/Usopp
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Two lovers have a spat; two others listen.
A/N: Part of a weeklong drabble-a-day project I’m doing with my ladylove. The prompt was “love letter”.
“What the hell is this?”
Sanji’s angry voice rose from the chimney like a plume of smoke and Usopp nearly dropped his watering can on the flowerbed of Pop Greens. Startled, his eyes met Nami’s curious gaze as she peeked out from behind a mikan tree.
“Won’t know until you give it to me,” in contrast, Zoro’s voice was low and bored and their ears had to strain just a little, “but it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“It’s a love letter.”
“Didn’t I just say it wasn’t?”
“This sounds like a private quarrel,” Usopp whispered. “We probably shouldn’t listen.”
“No,” Nami agreed, “we shouldn’t.”
Abandoning their gardens, they hurried over to the chimney and leaned in close to hear better.
“That cute ghost girl sent you a love letter.”
“It’s not a damn love letter, would you stop-”
“It’s scented.”
“No, it isn’t. That’s just how she smells.”
The sharp, incredulous and slightly hysterical bark of a laugh that followed his-rather foolish, in Usopp’s opinion-statement made the two eavesdroppers wince.
“I never expected this of Zoro,” Nami said in mock solemnity; they both knew better.
“It might not be his fault,” Usopp told her, valiantly leaping to the swordsman’s defense. “I’ve received many a love letter, completely unsolicited. At least seventy. In fact, I am, by now, a connoisseur of words with which to woo. ”
“Are you? Maybe you’ll show me sometime.”
“Oh, well, I would, but, uh, I don’t perform that well under pressure and-Nami, why are you smirking like that…”
She shushed him when Zoro’s voice came through again. “Cook, what are you doing?”
“You want a letter? I’ll give you a letter.”
“When did I ever say I wanted any letter?”
“Dear fuckface,” Sanji nearly growled the words he was, presumably, jotting down. “You’re a stupid idiot and you smell. I hate you. Don’t you dare accept love letters from anyone unless you want your other eye gouged out. Love, Sanji.”
“Your score, Mr. Connoisseur?” Nami asked.
“I give it a three.” He shook his head in miserable disappointment. “Too vulgar. Lacks a sense of poetry.” Then, boldly pressing on with a deep preparatory breath, “If I were to craft a letter to show…someone my, er, adoration…I would be sure to talk about her eyes and tell her that her skin is summer and her hair is autumn. A-and that she fills my life with color and adventure! And that no one could come between us because she…well, she understands me. Better than anyone.”
He wouldn’t look at her, but she smiled anyway and reached over to take his hand in hers. And her felt her own love letter to him, etched into her skin with the dulled scar in the palm of her hand, from where she stabbed herself to save him, years ago. Even he had to doubt that any words, whether written or whispered into the wind, could top that.
“‘Love’, huh, curly?”
“Shut up.”
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji, Nami/Usopp
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Two lovers have a spat; two others listen.
A/N: Part of a weeklong drabble-a-day project I’m doing with my ladylove. The prompt was “love letter”.
“What the hell is this?”
Sanji’s angry voice rose from the chimney like a plume of smoke and Usopp nearly dropped his watering can on the flowerbed of Pop Greens. Startled, his eyes met Nami’s curious gaze as she peeked out from behind a mikan tree.
“Won’t know until you give it to me,” in contrast, Zoro’s voice was low and bored and their ears had to strain just a little, “but it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“It’s a love letter.”
“Didn’t I just say it wasn’t?”
“This sounds like a private quarrel,” Usopp whispered. “We probably shouldn’t listen.”
“No,” Nami agreed, “we shouldn’t.”
Abandoning their gardens, they hurried over to the chimney and leaned in close to hear better.
“That cute ghost girl sent you a love letter.”
“It’s not a damn love letter, would you stop-”
“It’s scented.”
“No, it isn’t. That’s just how she smells.”
The sharp, incredulous and slightly hysterical bark of a laugh that followed his-rather foolish, in Usopp’s opinion-statement made the two eavesdroppers wince.
“I never expected this of Zoro,” Nami said in mock solemnity; they both knew better.
“It might not be his fault,” Usopp told her, valiantly leaping to the swordsman’s defense. “I’ve received many a love letter, completely unsolicited. At least seventy. In fact, I am, by now, a connoisseur of words with which to woo. ”
“Are you? Maybe you’ll show me sometime.”
“Oh, well, I would, but, uh, I don’t perform that well under pressure and-Nami, why are you smirking like that…”
She shushed him when Zoro’s voice came through again. “Cook, what are you doing?”
“You want a letter? I’ll give you a letter.”
“When did I ever say I wanted any letter?”
“Dear fuckface,” Sanji nearly growled the words he was, presumably, jotting down. “You’re a stupid idiot and you smell. I hate you. Don’t you dare accept love letters from anyone unless you want your other eye gouged out. Love, Sanji.”
“Your score, Mr. Connoisseur?” Nami asked.
“I give it a three.” He shook his head in miserable disappointment. “Too vulgar. Lacks a sense of poetry.” Then, boldly pressing on with a deep preparatory breath, “If I were to craft a letter to show…someone my, er, adoration…I would be sure to talk about her eyes and tell her that her skin is summer and her hair is autumn. A-and that she fills my life with color and adventure! And that no one could come between us because she…well, she understands me. Better than anyone.”
He wouldn’t look at her, but she smiled anyway and reached over to take his hand in hers. And her felt her own love letter to him, etched into her skin with the dulled scar in the palm of her hand, from where she stabbed herself to save him, years ago. Even he had to doubt that any words, whether written or whispered into the wind, could top that.
“‘Love’, huh, curly?”
“Shut up.”