#!ftf;

[a-shuras-blog]

You find yourself driving to Franky's workshop in the name of some overdue bro time, toting a case of beer with you. He very much is like a big bro, and its hard to not like the guy. Where you're not exactly the friendliest, he is.

He could probably drag a smile out of damn near anyone.

You enter the garage, calling, "Oi, Franky."

[a-shuras-blog]

You think that, even though she calls you dumb and picks on you, Nami is a good person to talk to about these kinds of things. You have to talk about it sometime, really ... Even if its not with Sanji. Yet. So you sit across from her, on the floor on her bedroom, gently taking her hands in yours.

It feels like a fucking marriage proposal, but you just like the feel of her, like that. You press on her knuckles in sequence and feel a little calmer about it. You bet that she's confused and maybe a little anxious at your silence, but still your mouth stays closed for minutes more.

"So I made out with Sanji."

Its best to just be direct, sometimes.

[a-shuras-blog]

You shoot back a text of, " yes, mistress " to Nami before you tell Luffy you're headed out. In your leathers and your helmet, you get on the bike and speed the short distance to Nami's place. Its a route you know well, one you could probably travel backwards, blindfolded.

You rev your engine loud, probably loud enough to wake the neighbors, and let it die down. The engine idles, and so do your thoughts.