we're not quite lovers, so i tell everyone we're just friends
zoro x afab! reader
hi! this is the revised + part 2 ish of the original. i doubt ill come back to this but idk i love quiet love sm 😕😕 and yearning. and the line between friends nd lovers. ts wounds me. zoro being bad abt feelings.
we're not quite lovers, so i tell everyone we're just friends.
the lights in the kitchen were dim except for one; blanching it's warm, yellow light upon you, the stool you sat upon, the table where your rigid shoulders heaved, and a bottle of soju alongside an emptied glass.
remnants of your drunken lips were smeared on it's rim, as a single drop of liquor cascaded down one of the beveled edges of the cup. it was a true mirror of the state you were in.
with tired eyes, you set aside the glass, the clink you heard upon doing so, sounding much too familiar.
to hear it, hurt your heart, but not more than your pride, knowing if at that moment you heard more than one, how easily you would have bursted into tears.
clink. clink. clink.
that was the sound one would hear when roronoa zoro entered the room. quiet yet full of presence, it was always three consecutive clinks, one from each of his blades clashing from the tread of his footsteps on deck. before your mind even got the chance to protest, the sound carved itself into your memory with ease.
there were a lot of things about the swordsman you memorized without meaning to.
it was like he hardly slept at all, by how early he would rise at dawn. you knew it well because sometimes in your sleep you stirred, and when you woke you'd hear the clink of his swords on the other side of the door as he walked past.
by afternoon, often you'd find the swordsman in deep sleep, in every possible location on the ship. it made sense to you though, of course he'd need to make up for the time lost to early training than to doze off. though his routine was out of his own willingness, you always made sure to interrupt roronoa zoro's way of life for meal times, when you noticed that he was asleep for longer than usual.
on one of those days, you and everyone had gathered for lunch. It was only mid way through the meal that you noticed the empty chair beside you. everyone was seated, except for the man who's mere absence left you feeling odd. you forgot to wake the swordsman. without hesitation, you set down your chopsticks and got up.
"(y/n), are you going to get zoro again?" asked the navigator.
the question stopped you in your tracks. you turned to nami, who's casual expression meant nothing at face value, that was until you became well acquainted with the look that glinted in the cat burglar's eyes, curiosity lighting aflame when it came to matters of gold, treasure, and more recently; you and the man who was currently snoring away with an empty stomach.
you nodded at the question, to which the sharpshooter who sat beside her looked to you, towards nami, then back to you again, the smirk on his face growing wider throughout the whole exchange.
to this, nami made no attempt to cease ussop's silent amusement, flashing an impish grin to her partner in crime, just as mortifying as his.
"what." you said, a desperate attempt to protect your pride.
"you know, (y/n)," ussop spoke, "i think it would be better if you were our cook instead of sanji."
the blonde chef glanced towards ussop's direction.
"if you were making dinner everyday, zoro would be the first one seated."
nami burst into laughter, jabbing ussop's shoulder repeatedly with her palms as he snickered. amused glances darted around the room, even luffy joined in with a hearty laugh, however it was not for the same reason that caused your cheeks to light aflame.
"don't be weird." you groaned.
"i'm not! i'm just saying," ussop grinned, swirling around the contents of the soup bowl cradled in his hand, "everyone here knows zoro sleeps like crazy, but we don't bother to wake him. there's a reason for that, (y/n)."
ussop paused, lowering his utensils.
"to say the least, it's like... poking a tiger with a stick."
chopper shuddered as if just hearing the sentiment was enough to relive the dreaded, 'who wants to wake zoro? not it!' game. the doctor's 62-day losing streak only came to an end once you had joined the crew.
ussop continued, "the thing with you, is that you get zoro up like he was never sleeping to begin with. not only that, you do it completely unscathed!"
nami nodded in agreement, the others similarly without a hint of protest.
"so there's no way he doesn't care for you right? atleast a little." nami teased. "wouldn't you agree sanji?"
sanji hummed, "that meathead has more moss in his brain than neurons, but he's an easy book to read."
you grew quiet.
"it's not rocket science. anyone can see that zoro likes (y/n)."
"zoro likes (y/n)? of course! she's part of our crew!" luffy laughed.
"not like that, luffy." sanji sighed.
you lowered your hands to your sides, stifly. your embarrassment was long replaced with a feeling that burdened you much more than a couple teasing remarks ever could.
"i know you all mean well, but i think you've got the wrong idea." you said, lips upturned into a smile that was a much of a lie as the next words that came out of your mouth.
"we're just friends, that's all."
———
as you left the dining room, you could feel the sentiment lingering in your throat, your tongue resting on the hard palate of your mouth, matching the final consonant.
that's all.
to roronoa zoro, the words "that's all" was easy for him. you'd gotten used to the way he'd leave long silences and unended conversations, without much explanation or room for interpretation. when you were with others, when you two were alone. when you'd see him in the boys cabin in the daylight, when he'd visit yours in the night. to roronoa zoro, the words "that's all" meant what they meant. there was no reason to question the statement. the words "that's all" would've been something he nodded at and left the room. something he'd turn his attention to for a split second, but ultimately it would never cross his mind again.
maybe the cook was right, how easily roronoa zoro read after so much time with him. the only thing is, you were just friends, and that's all you were. that's what you claimed, and that's what he'd be okay with. words that meant what they meant.
You walked along the deck, your arm softly meeting the railing, until you stopped at the familiar sound of a light snore.
you smiled softly to yourself, walking closer towards the frontmost part of the deck where zoro was sleeping seated upright, head cocked to one side. his shoulders lying low, chest rising and falling to the slow yet heavy rhythm of his breathing.
had you remembered the words you said earlier to your friends, you wouldn't have taken these few moments to study the way the swordsman looked. he was handsome, you knew anyone could see that. but it was when you started your routine of waking him did you notice the way his strongest and most chiseled features became his softest at rest. the curve of his cheek, the lack of furrow in his brow. his lips slightly parted. he was lighter in this state. less tired, less bitter.
his muscular frame however, was still as solid asleep as awake, but never did his sleeping form make you feel as uneasy as the way he looked after slaying a man 40 times the size of himself. instead, he was heavy in a remote state, like a large rock, unmoving, yet soft.
you knelt down to meet him at face level, as you've always done countless times before, resting a palm on his shoulder.
"zoro," you said, lightly patting the fabric.
being met with no response, you called again.
"zoro."
his breath was interrupted with a low grunt, then it continued again, ignoring you completely. you knew after some time this was not a case of the swordsman in deep sleep, it was one of refusal. seeing how his posture shifted to one more attentive than the way he was sitting moments ago, it only comfirmed your suspicions.
"i know you're awake, you big lug." you rolled your eyes in amusement. your hands lowered to meet the collar of his coat, lightly tugging the fabric.
still, his act continued even after confrontation, even after a couple firmer attempts to nudge him awake, and finally an exasperated sigh from you in defeat. without much else to do, you turned your head to look in the direction you came.
"i'll bring you a plate if you're so tired today." you said.
but before you could stand up to do so, the swordsman stopped you, his palms meeting your arms, heavy eyes opening to look at you. only you.
what one might expect from the likeness of roronoa zoro, is that his touch would be a great distance away from ever being tender.
i mean, he was a swordsman of course. how could a man who's life passion consisting of violence and bloodshed, have hands be anything but cold, unmercifcul, as if it was a physical imprint of how closely he worked with death himself?
maybe it has been too long. too much time. too many moments where you've bumped shoulders, or brushed each others' knuckles without meaning to. too many nights spent training, where his hands lingered to correct your form longer than they should have, or held onto you in battle even when danger was far away from the two of you.
because if you really thought about it, you couldn't even imagine a moment in time where roronoa zoro was ever rough with you.
yes, his hands were of little to no vanity. they were coarse and blistered, that much was clear from how hard he worked. but his touch, it was the kind of tenderness that was never too excessive or flowery, but simple and soft, tender enough to withold you from leaving him, from moving, from breathing altogether.
at that moment, he brushed a hand along your back, then raised it to where your hair met the collar of your shirt, strands falling loosely over your shoulders. he paused for a moment, hand frozen in place. to look at you. then ever so slowly, he shifted your hair to one side, grazing the crease of his thumb along the nape of your neck.
his gaze never left you. you couldn't describe it well, because in moments like these you found yourself looking at just about anywhere, anything, as long as it wasn't him, because never would you admit that the way he watched your face with such focus made your heart ache so easily.
had you looked at the swordsman's face for any longer, you wouldve felt a dangerous lack of restraint to close the distance between you and him, the man who had just moved your hair out of the way for no reason at all. for no real reason, other than it was something he wanted to do, so he did it.
had you looked at him for any longer, would you have mirrored his actions in return?
your hands dropped to your sides as you stepped back, letting him move from his rested position.
"you don't get me food." he said, firmly, slowly rising to his feet.
"hm?" you asked, a little taken aback.
"you offered to get me a plate, don't do that." he grunted, shifting his weight to stretch his shoulders.
"why not?"
"because if i don't get up to eat even after you go trying to wake me up, that's my fault." he turned to you, "you're no maid, so don't act like it."
you smiled.
"hey, if you're trying to say i'm a doormat, then you're very much mistaken," you scoffed. "if you made me get you food from today onward, i would've started complaining by day three."
"my point exactly." he grinned, flashing a canine.
"oh come on! how?"
"it takes you three days to start complaining. were you gonna bathe and dress me too?"
the remark left you feeling more embarrassed than you wished it did. you smacked his back with your open palm, flustered, as you walked towards the dining room.
it was an action that encouraged him to joust back, for him to flinch and shake your hand off his body and grunt in annoyance, away from your touch, away from you. but he did none of these things.
he simply let you, a content expression across his face, looking at you with those same honest eyes that made your walk falter behind him, your hand slowly falling back to your side.
for a moment you both walked in silence, zoro infront of you.
then you walked forward, brushing his forearm with yours, closer to him, closer than you needed to. and he just let you.
and for a moment, the shortest spec of a moment, your heart urged you to ask him why.
to ask why he let you walk closer. why he didn't move a muscle when you hit him and scolded him. why he would sleep for hours on end so you could wake him, and he could look at you, touch you, do all these things for longer than your heart could handle, and then repeat it all the next day without saying a single word.
you didn't have the courage to, of course, because you were just friends.
so you didn't say anything, and neither did he.
———
it was after a long fervour of party streamers, violin concertos, cake and booze on the sunny, that you were resting near the bow of the ship.
the sound of light waves rolling and crashing down replaced the hollering shouts of your once drunken, but now sleeping, crewmates. it seemed everyone was knocked out cold. it was so quiet now. what a party, the strawhats could throw.
you contently gazed up at the stars above, ones that seemed to glisten only for the ocean below, and you wondered if they knew how radiant they looked from millions of light years away. and then you wondered how the world would look from up that high, if you could trade places with the stars.
you figured from such a distance as theirs, it would be quite an eyesore to try to see anything.
maybe you had been looking up at the stars for too long, thinking about them for too long, that you didn't see when exactly roronoa zoro walked up beside you, built arms resting on the ship's railing. your eyes fluttered closed.
no, you really didn't see him.
clink clink clink.
the sound was enough to know.
without hesitance, his name droned out of your lips in a sigh, "zoro, how many drinks did you have?" you leaned against the railing.
he grunted. when you opened your eyes, his gaze was already fixated on you.
"lost count."
the feather-like waft of the wind caused his earrings to softly chime and glisten, moonlight framing the crystal gold just as lavishly as it did his jawline. god. even the moon was weak to handsome men.
you hummed, gaze drifting downwards to his chest, absentmindedly, "i guess when you can hold your liquor, it's easy to forget, huh?"
he nodded, and for a moment you both stilled in each others presence, the cold of the railing, the stillness of wind and sea from above as below.
"why are you awake?" he asked, breaking the soft quiet in the air.
"hm? oh. don't you remember?" you turned to him, "i'm on night duty for the week."
"oh." his posture lowered with understanding, "so that's why you weren't there when i..." zoro stopped. his mouth closed almost instantaneously after the sentence, his eyes darting to the ground.
you tilted your head in confusion, inviting him to continue, "when you...?"
he opened his mouth to speak again, turning to you, but he had no words left to say once you came into his view. your puzzled yet soft expression, the wrinkle in your brow, the way you leaned ever so slightly torwards him, so ardently for him to finish his sentence.
you were listening to him. really listening. that very fact filled the swordsman with a hesitant kind of dread, and no longer could he find the words he meant to say.
all of a sudden it felt they weighed more, with the way you were looking at him that night.
his jaw tightened, heavy eyes giving your mouth a once over before shaking his head and clearing his throat.
"s' nothing, forget it."
———