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Summary
“I’m not a pushover,” Zoro says, because this is important. He needs Sanji to know this. “I don’t let anyone tell me what to do, normally.” Before - before Luffy. And Zoro hadn’t realised that he was waiting for this, for someone to come along who was worthy of being his captain and commanding his loyalty. He didn’t realise how it would settle him, right to his core, like the weight of a perfectly balanced sword in his hand.
“Believe me,” Sanji says, “I know.”
“I’m not weak.”
He laughs. “No fucking shit. Some day I swear you’re going to cut the goddamn ocean in half.”
Zoro huffs a little laugh of his own and settles further into Sanji’s grip, a tension he didn’t realise he was carrying dissipating from his shoulders.
“I like it,” he admits, quietly. “I like that it hurts.”
Sanji’s eyes are softer than Zoro’s ever seen them. “I know that, too,” he says.
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