Clown Issues

With unwarranted confidence, she rose to her feet and switched couches, taking up the unoccupied space next to him. If he was going to give her his full attention, then she'd do the same and then some. A lightness had surrounded them and she craved a heaviness, different than the one that had lingered over them like the greenish-bruise shade of tornado clouds. She wanted a hurricane. She wanted the intensifying static in the air, wild waves crashing against the shores, and the unstoppable winds.

She wanted to be the storm.

"Treated like animals and some still act like it," Faye replied with a curt nod. More than once, she had been forced to make it clear that, despite her appearance and small stature, she was not one to be trifled with. Thankfully, her position as the spymaster kept most from testing their luck. Shifting her hips, she tucked an ankle under her, propped her head up with her hand on the back of the couch, and stared up at him.

"The positives, hmm? Easy. We met each other and can meet like this without bein' disturbed. Well, unless it's somethin' important. Though, I can't imagine too much will be goin' on."

How close could she get to him? Able to rest her hand on his? Sitting on his lap like some prized pooch? She hadn't come in with intentions to be coy, but with the ease of talking with him came a primal desire.

Buggy makes no comment at Faye’s sudden change of position. Why, if they both like each other and are obviously trying to get closer? He just makes more room for her and draws his arm around her shoulder.

“You’re right. My assistants know the days when I shouldn’t be bothered,” he smiles again.

Those days get increasingly more frequent. Hangover and fresh bruises render Buggy a tired, limp floor rag most of the week. But he knows how to reassemble himself into something servable. Otherwise worse things await him.

He stifles the desire to run his hand over her thigh. Despite Faye sending clear signals of her friendly disposition, Buggy doesn’t make an impression as though he thinks she’s too easy.

“I like people like you. They know what they want. I always knew what I wanted.”

Without acting on it for more than twenty years. You’re an awful role model, Buggy, so better shut up about that.

“I love treasures. Do you like treasures? I think it’s one of life’s best things. They can buy you almost anything and they look good on you. I mean, me, but you would look good with some of my jewels on you as well…”

Pensive for a moment, Buggy suddenly takes off one of his emerald earrings and holds it against Faye’s outfit.

“See, I was right. Would you like to have these?”

The corner of her lip twitched when he mentioned beautiful girls like herself. It truly sounded like he had everything he could ever want and more; however, she had once been wrapped in expensive threads and could have almost anything her heart desired. Almost. It had been the most miserable decades of her short life.

"Extravagances and beauty are often the biggest deceivers of happiness. Oleanders are gorgeous flowers, but damn near every part of them is toxic." Not once had she considered returning to her life of comfort, even on her worst days out here. Out here, she was free, and dying by her own idiotic choices was preferable to living on the orchestrated strings of someone else's cruel hand.

Faye listened to him again, despite disagreeing with him. Ports may have all the things he listed, but the experiences could be vastly different. At one port, you could have your brains fucked out by a skilled brothel worker and make out like a bandit swindling the drunks in the bar next door, and then at the next, you're beaten over the head with a liquor bottle and waking up in the middle of a ditch without a stitch of clothing on.

She didn't believe him, but what did it matter?

Buggy might as well be a God to his followers here. Smoothing down her skirt, she returned the flirtatious smile. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back over the couch. Where would she go?

"Not so much of a place as a person who is long gone." They had never had a true relationship, her father having snuffed the fire from her mother long ago, but there had been a mother's love buried beneath the ash and ruin. She had been too young to unearth it when it was still within reach. By the time she was old enough to understand it wasn't contempt for her reflected in her mother's eyes, it might as well have been a world away.

"I'd like to be wherever I'm gettin' attention," lifting her head, she looked back at him, "which currently is right here. Laugh if you will, but you may just be the only one I would even consider bein' close to here." It certainly wouldn't be Cold Croc or Morose Mihawk.

Buggy perks up at her last words. He’s learned – way before he became Emperor – to never take anyone’s words at face value, but the fact that Faye chose such words was already telling. So she wants to be on his good side. Not because she’s afraid, but because she’s lonely here. Buggy shudders inwardly at the thought of Faye getting a glimpse of how much he understands her right now.

“You have my full attention now,” he smiles, and he’s not lying. Even a distantly polite affection like Faye’s is god-given in this cursed place.

He’s not one to laugh. Not even on his best days, he’s not much of a laughing man. Yes, the irony is vast and bitter.

“People aren’t very friendly here, it’s true,” he says, spreading his hands on the back of the sofa as wide as the fabric of his suit allows, making himself a gigantic red sail. “But you probably know how it is for former Impel Down inmates. Life’s been hard on them, and they had to harden in response. But surely you must have something to compare this place to?”

Buggy wonders what sort of life a woman like Faye must have had. Not easy, that much is clear. But what else? How many adventures has she had? How many lovers? How many have disappointed her?

Betrayal is something Buggy feels she’s intimately familiar with, and questions himself if he should let her know he knows too. That he won’t betray her should she trust him with her heart.

“I think we should look at the positives.”

summerxmelodies

Day after day, it's the same thing. She's used to monotony and routine, that's something every young Marine is familiar with from their cadet days.

Things only start changing when you start climbing in rank.

It isn't the monotony that is awful; it's the screams. They were constant and came in every form imaginable. Some were born from agony, others despair, and some from madness. How did the others stand it?

She suspects they don't mind, largely because most of them seemed to delight in their work. Melody, on the other hand, hates it. It felt wrong, even if these people are all criminals!

She’s a frayed nerve and when he shouts, she flinches. Blue eyes cut to the pot she's scooping the slop from, nose twitching. It's spoiled, but she can't control that. She isn't the cook and even if she was, she probably wouldn't be allowed to feed the inmates better.

She turns, looking back at the man; he looks familiar, but she can't recall his name. “I can't…” and her gaze is apologetic.

@fellapart

Buggy hears the voice and stills. The guard sounds strange, almost sad. The clown bends to look out of the gap in the door and see the face of the person who fixed him with this disgusting, sorry excuse for a meal.

“You sure? Sure you don’t wanna do something about it? Just for me?” Buggy strains a grin, as pleasant as he can make it around here, where nothing merry ever happens. “Do you accept payments?”

He has nothing to pay her for. There are ways, of course… But for that he’d have to take a shower, which isn’t a regular occurrence in Impel Down either. And he’s definitely not sure this guard is into clowns.

“I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t stand this slop anymore.”

#summerxmelodies

While she was thankful he didn't inquire further about her past, she couldn't help but feel a bit touched that he even bothered to say he was sorry. Not with what he claimed to have been through. She'd only been emotionally and mentally abused, at least when she was still young, while he had endured it all without any type of comfort. Faye picked at the hem of her skirt when she glanced down at her lap.

Silence clung to the room like dusty spiderwebs when he asked if they were in a better place. From the look of things, he seemed to be in a better place — from cabin boy to emperor of the sea. However, from what she knew about Mihawk and Crocodile, she doubted they took any sort of orders from the clown. Discovering who pulled what strings was one of the things she'd wanted to uncover.

In her mind, Buggy was stronger than some may believe. His charisma and ability to enrapture so many followers, even if they were doing it blindly, was nothing to dismiss. A large enough army of ants could overwhelm creatures far larger and more powerful than themselves.

As for herself? She would argue she was in a better place. She didn't have the money and titles she had under her father's thumb, but she had her freedom.

"I'd say I am; others might think otherwise," Faye finally smiled. "I imagine some would say it's a downgrade going from a luxurious lifestyle to workin' alongside pirates. I find this more rewardin'." Again, she fell unnaturally quiet, her eyes following his gaze.

"If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you want to be?"

“Nowhere else,” Buggy replies so quickly he surprises himself. Some of his reflexes have deteriorated, but some have sharpened so much he could split a hair with his sense of congruity. “I’m sitting on a pile of money, talking to beautiful girls like yourself. Why would I want something different?”

He salutes Faye with his glass, gulps some more wine. When did he lose the taste for rum? Did the new life claim so much of him, or was the old one just ripped away from him?

“Besides,” he puts one red fold representing his leg over another, “All places are the same. You realize it after a while of sailing. Every place has a port, a brothel, a flock of strange animals and cruel people. What else is new?”

Buggy hears himself chuckle bitterly. This isn’t the sort of atmosphere he wanted to put on for Faye, so he corrects himself by smiling at her.

“All those if’s and why’s only ruin the fun. I’ve learned not to question all the lives I never lived. I only have this one, and it’s…it’s better than I could ever imagine.”

The alcohol is starting to take its effect, and Buggy feels warm and loose all of a sudden. His grin becomes less of an official’s polite smile and more of a flirtatious spectacle he only reserves for people he thinks are safe to pick up. Not that he actually feels Faye is safe, but why the hell not? He needs a warm body next to his so bad, as soon as possible, no matter what… It’s embarrassing, really, how much Buggy depends on human proximity, even as cold and punishing one as Crocodile and Mihawk’s. He can’t stand being alone.

“Your turn.”

#as always Mads rocks my world

@fellapart I FINISHED LETS GOOOO. Anyway, you know I’m excited for them.

His request was simple and, quite frankly, boring. Her ventures out at sea dwindled since joining the Cross Guild, needing to act as their information broker. It was always the same. Keep an eye on the Marines or the other big players. Snooping on Croc and Mihawk was out of the question, given how powerful their observation haki was. She'd been merely passing by their quarters when she was first approached, the dark aura radiating off them in nauseating waves all the warning she needed. Any information gathered on them would have to be done when she was ready to jump ship.

"I'll be sure to keep my guys on it." Her response was flat. Was he even that interested?

Faye took note of the grape he flayed. A better question was, had she ever seen him eat, besides that first one he forced between his lips. It was as though alcohol had become his food and faith. Drain any more bottles and his blood would likely turn to wine. Her thoughts didn't hesitate once on who could inflict enough fear to bend an emperor.

Now that was something worth peeling back, just like the grape's skin. She returned his smile with a curt nod.

"More than happy to throw business talk out the window. All work and no play makes for a dull person." Leaning into the cushions, she readjusted herself. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know if that's lucky or not. At least it'll be somethin' to look forward to every mornin'."

Now, how much to reveal about herself? The truth, not that he'd know it from a lie, would be the quickest way to earn his trust and lower his guard, especially in an inebriated state. Loose lips often sink ships.

"I've got nothing to hide." A lie first and then the truth. "My family life was complicated. My mother passed shortly after I came of age and my father sold me to a Celestial Dragon shortly after that. Well, I suppose it'd be more accurate to say he tried to sell me to one. I managed to escape during transit by sheer luck and fiery determination. Not sure what came of him and I don't plan to ever find out. I imagine your family life wasn't all that great if you ended up as a pirate?"

Buggy stops peeling the grape and wraps it into a loose fist when Faye so simply divulges this painful bit of her personal history. Does it mean it stopped hurting? Buggy is sure it didn’t. He looks at Faye a long beat.

“Your father sold you?” He then turns to look out the window again. “I’m sorry to hear that. Guess not every person is meant to be a parent.”

It’s amazing how he’s still got it in him to feel sorry for her, when he is so fucking miserable. But isn’t it what makes everyone human? The connection. He’s still able to feel it, especially to someone with unfortunate past.

He promptly pops the flayed grape into his mouth and goes to straighten the folds on his red suit. His long-lashed eyes are liable to have a tear hanging, but he swallows it just in time.

“I didn’t have a family at all. I was found in a dumpster by an orphanage with my umbilical cord half chewed-off. They would beat us, starve us, sell us. They shaved our heads to avoid lice, so I decided… When I broke out, I’d let my hair hang all the way down to my ass.”

Buggy gives a small laugh, touches his face with the back of his hand.

“Then I did break out and found a pirate ship to become a cabin boy on. The rest is, as they say, history.”

He won’t tell how he felt when he met Shanks, and Roger, and everyone else. Faye should know quite well who was his father figure and childhood friend – just friend – and the rest is Buggy’s own thing. He won’t spill that much even when desperately drunk. By the way…

He reaches for another refill.

“But it’s just that, history. I’m sure we’re both in a better place right now, aren’t we?”

healingbrews

He has a point, she has to admit that. It's as if the cosmos decided the Straw Hats deserved all the goddamn luck in the world. Hinoka had a suggestion, perhaps too dark for the captain but it is interrupted by his statement.

"Every day, but I choose to ignore it."

It was answered plainly without a hint of hesitation when she said it. It was easy to say when your life was in the hands of a fucking clown.

"There are things to be done and I will only allow myself to wallow once they are finished." She gestured broadly, as if to include the whole situation she found herself in having joined the clown's crew, "Alas, the list grows longer."

"You want to talk about it?"

Buggy draws a deep breath and blinks. Drumming his fingers on his hips, he stares at the ceiling for a while, considering the doctor’s offer. It’s funny, how rarely he’s heard such words. You want to talk about it. No one’s ever concerned themselves with the feelings and thoughts of a clown, and so Buggy is a bit confused.

But then he turns on his side, facing Hinoka, and takes a long look at her.

“You’re way too kind. Like, suspiciously so.”

And he grins, meaning it as a joke.

“I don’t think one nothing is fit to cure another of its nothingness. On the second thought, I don’t think you’re nothing. You’re something. You’re my ship doctor. We need you. Isn’t that enough to get by?”

He says it quietly, as though pensively.

#healingbrews

One glass drained with the speed of a man dying of thirst on a barren island, then quickly refilled to repeat the process. It was to be expected with pirates. For many, alcohol went down as smoothly as water, the nerves in their throats long scorched from the years of abuse. After a while, they'd be singing their hearts out and flapping their gums, spilling every dirty secret for her to lap up and take to her true boss.

At first glance, Buggy would seem no different. However, something about the way he guzzled down his glasses every time she visited him was more akin to a cry for help. Once, she even imagined him as a desperate man trying to bandage a gaping, bleeding wound with bandages meant for small scratches. Why that imagery came to mind was still a mystery, one she hungered to uncover.

"I have been fine, thank you for askin'."

The wine marinated on her tongue in between sips. A high quality, but not nearly as enjoyable as a glass of aged whiskey. She ached for the sweet burn and dulling of her senses, but knew she'd have to wait until later. Her wits would have to remain with her in case she crossed paths with Mihawk or Crocodle before the day was over. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself in front of either of them.

"Thank you again. Need to keep up appearances if I'm gonna be workin' for the cross guild," she leaned forward and set down her empty glass. "And receivin' compliments from an emperor does wonders for my ego. Keep it up and you're likely never gonna get rid of me." Faye teased with a wink.

His wandering eyes didn't go unnoticed. She dressed for this audience with the emperor more provocatively to see if she could capture his gaze.

"Hopefully, next time I'll be able to bring you more excitin' news. Is there anythin' you're more concerned or curious about?"

It’s a nice change to be in the company of someone he doesn’t expect violence from. Buggy still cannot get rid of the feeling that somehow Crocodile and Mihawk are going to return to the island earlier than planned, and they are the opposite of fun even when they aren’t causing him physical pain. But with Faye he is marginally more relaxed. And the wine helps. Just for show, he reaches for grapes and puts one in his mouth.

She seems predisposed towards him, which is nice. He’s forgotten what it’s like, to receive some genuine warmth instead of parasocial adoration that can turn into hatred just as easily should they learn his little secret. And yet, Faye is here for business. He shouldn’t forget that, and so he sighs.

“I uh… Wondered…”

He craves for another great conflict. A war, even, where he can slink off unnoticed and bury himself in oblivion. The fame and glory have long since proven to be vapid to him, and he’d do well without them. Without anything. Just let him rest his entire life in some remote village, drinking himself to death until he meets a peaceful death.

“I’d like you to keep an eye out for some undercurrents that would indicate something big. The Marines are just pirates in white, so one could expect anything from them. And the rest of us, well… They aren’t called sea devils for nothing.”

He gives a weak smile, not even sure he’s made a joke. Forgetting to eat a second grape, he toys with it, rolling it between his fingers and peeling its skin off. How easily the same could happen to him…

“Truth be told, I’m a bit tired of business talk today,” he looks to the side, out the window, where seagulls are flying so freely. “Do you have something to tell about yourself? Your day, your family?”

He quickly checks himself. Surely an info broker won’t give up an iota of information that easily. Especially personal. So he sighs again.

“A week ago a couple of swallows started building a nest on my balcony. Means they’ll have chicks soon. I think it means luck. Don’t you?”

notmorbid

all the little raindrops.

dialogue prompts from all the little raindrops by mia sheridan.

hush. i'm here. you're safe.

someone has to let go first.

how long do you think we've been here?

i don't know what to say.

what did they do to you?

i survived it. i'm here.

i still talk to _____ in my head.

people rarely catch me off guard.

do you want me to tell you a story?

it's not too late to do the right thing.

i won't leave. no matter what.

i won't leave you. not for a minute.

i can't forget. i want to.

i feel like i could sleep for eternity.

you're whole. you're here.

shhh. it's okay. you're safe.

i'm glad you're not alone.

we need to stop this. it's not right.

there's always a dirty cop somewhere waiting to be bribed.

you're taller than i remembered.

i'd know you were near, even with my eyes closed.

you look good. damn good.

that's the first time i've said that, even to myself.

i think it's fair to say we see the world differently than most people do. for better and for worse.

i prefer to be on my feet, moving. working.

are you dating anyone?

you could explain, to the right person.

lying to you feels like lying to myself.

we can make new memories to replace the others.

breathe. look at me.

i feel empty when i'm away from you.

you know. living the dream, as always.

i appreciate you listening to me.

forgetting helps for a while, but then it doesn't.

where there's evil, there is always money.

most things are just a matter of time.

you made me feel welcome. loved.

what really kills me is that of all people, you should have known what that would do to me.

'complicated' doesn't even begin to cover it.

you are the strongest person i've ever known. find happiness.

funny, the things your brain files away without you even knowing.

i was really sorry to hear what happened to you.

you don't have to explain anything to me.

apparently you have a few more layers than i've imagined.

you could sell ice cubes in a snowstorm.

you deserve to feel young and dauntless. just for a little while.

we said we were never going to talk about that.

i wish i had something to throw at you.

if you wanted to die, why didn't you?

i would do anything to protect you. haven't i proved that?

you knew me and loved me anyway.

you became one of the monsters you claim to hate.

i help those who can be helped. i'm quite good at it.

if i have trust issues where ______ are concerned, you'll kindly understand why.

we're together. we can handle anything.

no one can save you if you aren't brave enough to save yourself.

noncompliance pays off, in the end.

i know what it's like not to feel. it's no way to live.

you need someone. why not me?

at least one cup of coffee before i'm conversational. preferably two.

#memes

Partnering with the Cross Guild couldn’t have been a better stroke of luck. Her network had nearly doubled with their extensive crews, more information flowing into her hands like molten gold. Most of it consisted of things she was already aware of or only reinforced the rumors she had, but here and there a world shattering tidbit of news. Those bits could be sold or traded for untold riches and while she both feared and respected Croc and Mihawk, she knew better than to tell them everything she learned. She’d feed other valuable secrets to Buggy who could then take it to them.

She had liked Buggy since their interview, his extravagant and audacious grandeur exciting and welcoming. He was far more approachable despite being so large to the point that she actively wanted to spend time with him, just because. Of course, he was the leader so she needed to present something and the knowledge of Blackbeard’s ships being moved from one corner of his territory left it open for an attack which would secure a cluster of islands that likely sat on gold and silver mines.

Faye made sure to arrive to the meeting early, waiting patiently for the secretary to let her in where she stood patiently. At first glance, she was likely to be mistaken for the assistant. Her long hair was pulled up in a semi-messy bun. She wore an emerald green blouse, the top two buttons left undone to highlight her ample bosom, a highwaisted black pencil skirt that stopped midthigh to reveal a serpent and sunflower tattoo on her left thigh. Both Croc and Mihawk dressed impressively and hoping to keep on their good side, she did the same. And part of her wanted their approval and maybe a lingering glance. They were powerful men working for a powerful warlord after all.

“Buggy!” She smiled when he entered, opening her arms as though she were going in for a hug before dropping them at her sides. Her hooves, red like the tips of her tail and horns, clicked across the floor as she took the spot across from him, crossing her legs so as not to unintentionally flash him.

“Wild and unpredictable as always.” Taking one of the glasses of wine, she leaned back and sipped on it. Not her favorite, but she knew to play the part. He’d been kind enough to supply her with something. “I have some news that you may like. Blackbeard has moved some of his ships away from the islands in his southern territory. I had some of my people double check a rumor about gold mines and while I don’t know how much can be mined, I believe it’ll still be worth taking while he’s distracted. I also have the next set of patrols for the Marines.”

She took another sip and looked up at him.

“How are you by the way?”

Buggy soars briefly up and lands on the sofa like a giant sail descending slowly from the sky. Once all his fabrics settle down, the first thing he does is knock down the entire wine glass. It spreads over his tongue deliciously like a revival potion, and he lingers a bit to let it settle down and fire up his system. Maybe this won’t be so bad. After all, he’s entitled to as much booze as he wants.

After warming up, he finally grins.

“Never better.”

It comes out before any coherent thought enters his brain, he’s so used to blurting it out automatically and feigning the best of moods. Putting the glass on the table, he quickly fills it up again.

“Though to be honest, the information has been dry lately. So it’s good to have you bring something to the table.”

Drumming his fingers on the cushions, Buggy lets his eyes dart around. It’s silly to expect Croc and Hawkeyes to emerge from behind the sofa any moment, but he can’t shake it off. He’s still aching from the previous beating.

What Faye has to say about Blackbeard and the Marines does not interest him in the slightest beyond the fact that it’s something that might alleviate Croc and Mihawk’s eternal rage. He found he’s bored by most things in his life as of late, and the bottle has been the most desirable bed partner too. At least it doesn’t judge and doesn’t betray.

His gaze steals inside Faye’s cleavage all the same, then over her leg tattoo. She’s a pretty girl, and in better times he’d try to get her in his bed, but that area of interest has also closed for him. It’s difficult to get hard when you fear for your life.

“You been faring well yourself?”

He starts drinking the second glass, this time slower, for he is aware he must not raise any suspicion. It’s tough, though, like hiding a bunch of needles in a sock.

“Lookin’ good today.”

#thank you so much!!!#my man

A quick Buggy for my dear @fellapart

❛ no is a sufficient answer. ❜ - Jimbei

Buggy does sometimes get wordy. It’s especially easy next to a guy like Jimbei, who’s quite a lot bigger and stronger. It’s a sort of self-defense mechanism. Buggy crosses his arms and steps back to measure the fishman with a glance. Yeah, better not get on his bad side.

“I-it’s not like I mean no. It’s more like I’m not sure. Can I trust you? I’ve trusted a couple of guys in my life and it turned out… not well.”

#niightwcves #hi! thanks for the meme!

healingbrews

She knows the captain means well, what with the overly cheesy smile that could practically reflect the sun off of it. It is not his fault that she is so cryptic in regards to her background. What she'd been through.

So she decided to mess with him.

"How do you know this isn't already a change in my appearance?" Hinoka floated the question at him, gauging his reaction, "You've seen how I fight, and I have many other skills in my back pocket should I need them. Disguise may just be one of them."

"You met me at a later point in time, and I was hiding in that port town. I could be blonde for all you know."

“Well, I’ve already kind of decided to trust you,” Buggy shrugs, and a smile spreads on his face again. It’s a lottery, he knows it more than anyone. But sometimes he won. His crew has a few loyal guys, and he’s grateful for it.

“Then I think you chose red on purpose. It goes well with your eyes.”

How many times has he caught himself admiring Hinoka’s looks? Too many. Buggy is not only a slut but a lover of redheads.

“You wouldn’t be the only person on the run who’s come to my ship. There were battered wives, fledgling criminals who were looking for a place to stay. If someone is after you, it’s someone more serious, I presume, but you can count on my support.”

#hi again #healingbrews

summerxmelodies

She had thought rock bottom was being drowned by her own father and running from everything she’d ever known just for a chance at survival. She had thought nothing could be worse, but life has a funny way of surprising you.

She’d been running for more than a decade, staying one step ahead of her father, the Marines, and bounty hunters. She had never expected to be captured by Cross Guild, but the reason for her capture was even more surprising. She’d thought they only wanted her for her bounty or maybe to recruit her.

Well, she was half right, except their method of recruitment was less than conventional. For weeks she’d screamed and fought against the inevitable. They couldn’t force her to marry! It wasn’t legally binding! She refused to accept it, but she could do little to stop it. A simple bracelet, innocent looking yet expertly crafted sea prism stone and smuggled out of Wano, kept her Devil Fruit powers suppressed without rendering her utterly useless.

A “wedding gift” Crocodile had said, while Mihawk just looked on impassively. Her dress was beautiful and she would have loved it, if she were marrying for love. The veil was a blessing as it hides her tears, at least until he pulls it up. She blinks quickly, trying to chase them away, but there’s no hiding the pain and anger in her gaze.

The kiss makes her stiffen, but she doesn’t make a scene and follows without a word. She can’t wait to be somewhere more private, but at the same time is dreading it. Buggy is handsome, she won’t deny that, but all she knows of him is what she’s seen in the papers. For an Emperor it sure seemed like Crocodile and Mihawk were running the show.

“Was this your idea?!” she all but snarls the moment they are alone, wrenching her hand free of his grasp.