YOU'RE DRFTING AWAY
Pairings: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader, Roronoa Zoro x Reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Comfort, Romance, Fluff at end
Status: Complete
Word Count: 20k+ Total
Warnings:
• Jealousy
• Insecurity
• Miscommunication
• Emotional neglect (unintentional)
• Reader feeling replaced
• Crying
• Self-doubt
• Relationship conflict
• Angst with comfort
• Happy endings
Summary:
Love isn't always lost through betrayal.
Sometimes it's forgotten date nights, unanswered messages, and watching the person you love slowly give someone else the attention you desperately miss.
As another woman becomes a constant presence in their lives, reader finds themselves quietly stepping back convinced they're overreacting, convinced their jealousy is unreasonable, convinced they're becoming someone difficult to love.
Until everything finally reaches its breaking point.
Three stories about feeling invisible.
Three heartbreaks.
Three apologies.
And three men willing to do whatever it takes to earn their place back beside the person they love.
Featuring:
♡ Law — I Thought You Didn't Need Me Anymore
♡ Zoro — Maybe You Should Be with Her
♡ Luffy — Everyone Thinks They're Dating
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"I Thought You Didn't Need Me Anymore"
Law | Modern AU | Angst/Comfort
The first time Corazon's little sister showed up at the apartment, you didn't think much of it.
"She's having trouble with her medical school applications," Law explained, barely looking up from his laptop. "I told Corazon I'd help her go through them."
"Oh, that's nice," you said, settling onto the couch with your own book. "Want me to make coffee?"
"Already did, thanks," he muttered, already pulling up documents on his second monitor.
That was three weeks ago.
Now, Kira was at the apartment more often than she wasn't. And you didn't mind—really, you didn't. She was bright and earnest, and Law was genuinely good at helping her. He had a way of breaking down complex problems, of making her feel capable even when she was second-guessing herself. It was one of the things you loved about him, actually. That quiet competence. That way he made people feel less alone.
It just... stung, sometimes, that he did it so effortlessly for her.
"Law, I'm freaking out about the essay prompt for Johns Hopkins," Kira announced, bursting through the door after you'd already made dinner. You were plating it when you heard her voice.
Law was already moving toward her, completely forgetting the food cooling on the counter.
"Show me," he said, and just like that, you were invisible.
You didn't eat with them. You cleaned up instead, your movements quiet and efficient. Law wouldn't notice anyway. He was too focused on helping Kira, and you'd learned—through a series of small moments that accumulated into a larger ache—that when Law was focused on something, or someone, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist for him.
It wasn't intentional. That was the thing that made it hurt differently.
You started making excuses not to be there when Kira came over.
"I have that thing," you'd text, even when you didn't. Even when you were sitting in a coffee shop that smelled faintly of cardboard and loneliness, nursing a latte and scrolling through your phone, waiting for Law to text you.
He never did.
"Work called me in on Thursday," you lied, even though Thursday was normally when you two watched terrible reality TV in comfortable silence.
Law responded with "ok" and nothing else.
You couldn't even be mad about it because he wasn't ignoring you—he was just... not thinking about you. There was a difference. Ignorance, at least, implied you'd made an impression enough to be dismissed. This felt like existing in a separate dimension entirely.
Your friends started noticing.
"Where's Law?" Nami asked one Friday night, and you looked away.
"Busy."
"But you guys have movie night on Fridays," Usopp said, frowning.
"He's helping someone with medical school stuff," you said, keeping your voice light. "It's important."
It was important. You knew that. Medical school was life-changing. A bad application cycle could mean years of delay, of disappointment. Kira's future was legitimate and time-sensitive, and Law was the best person to help her.
You were just... what? Asking him to choose between you and actually helping someone who needed him?
That made you needy.
So you stopped asking.
Two months in, Law finally noticed something was wrong.
"You're quiet lately," he said one afternoon. You were both on the couch, technically "spending time together," though he had his laptop open and you were staring at your phone without actually seeing it.
"I'm fine," you said automatically.
"You're not usually this quiet."
You almost laughed. How many times had you tried to get his attention in the past weeks? How many times had you sat across from him, practically vibrating with the need to be seen, only to watch his eyes glaze over as he thought about Kira's essays or her interview prep or whatever crisis was happening in her application cycle?
And now, when you'd finally made yourself small enough to fit into the background, now he noticed?
"Just tired," you said.
He nodded, accepting this, and turned back to his laptop. You felt something in your chest crack a little wider.
The breaking point came on a Tuesday night in the middle of October.
You'd spent the entire day feeling hollow. Work had been mediocre. The weather was grey. You'd been thinking about Law—about how it felt like you were dating a ghost of a person, someone whose body was there but whose mind was always somewhere else.
You let yourself into the apartment and found him at the dining table with Kira, surrounded by medical school pamphlets and rejection letters and acceptance letters. She was crying—happy tears, but tears nonetheless.
"I got in," she was saying. "I got into Hopkins, I got into UCSF, I—I'm going to be a doctor, Law. I'm actually going to be a doctor."
Law was doing that thing he did, standing there with his hands in his pockets, saying something quiet and genuine that somehow made it feel like he'd personally moved mountains for her.
And you stood in the doorway, unseen, and felt like you were disappearing.
"That's incredible," Law said, and his voice was warm in a way you couldn't remember him using with you recently.
Something inside you snapped.
"Can we talk?" you asked, and your voice came out small and strange.
Law looked up, seeming to notice you for the first time since you'd walked in. "Yeah, of course. Kira, we can—"
"Alone," you added.
It took twenty minutes for Kira to leave. You watched from the kitchen as Law walked her to the door. You watched as he congratulated her again, his hand briefly on her shoulder. And then—then he did something that made your heart stop.
He pulled her into a hug. A real one. The kind of hug he used to give you, with both arms wrapped around her, genuine warmth in his touch.
"I'm really proud of you," you heard him say softly.
Kira hugged him back, and you could see her smiling, could see how much his approval meant to her. When they pulled apart, Law reached up and gently patted her head, the gesture so tender and affectionate that you felt something inside you physically break.
He'd never done that to you. Not recently. Not in months.
"Text me and let me know which one you choose, okay?" he said to her, that same gentle tone in his voice. "I want to celebrate with you."
"I will," she said, beaming at him. "Thank you, Law. For everything."
He stood in the doorway, watching her leave with a soft expression on his face. A expression you'd forgotten he was capable of making.
You stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter so hard your knuckles turned white, watching the man you loved show affection to someone else. Watching him be warm and present and there for her in a way he hadn't been for you in months.
When he came back, he was already on the defensive. "What's wrong? Are you mad at Kira? Because she's just stressed and—"
"I'm not mad at her," you said, but your voice was shaking. "I'm mad at you."
Law blinked. In the time you'd been dating, you'd maybe raised your voice at him twice. You were the calm one. The patient one. The one who understood him.
"What did I do?" he asked, genuinely confused.
And that's when something inside you just... shattered.
"What did you—" Your voice broke completely, and suddenly you were crying. Not delicate tears. Real crying. The kind that made your whole body shake. "What did you do? Law, you stopped seeing me. You stopped looking at me. You come home and you don't even notice I'm there. You're thinking about her problems, her essays, her future, and I'm just—I'm just invisible."
"That's not true," he started, reaching for you, but you stumbled backward.
"Don't," you choked out, tears streaming down your face now, your hands shaking. "Don't touch me right now. I can't—I can't handle your logic right now. I need you to actually feel something."
"I do feel—"
"You didn't even notice I stopped coming to movie nights!" you said, your voice cracking and desperate. "You didn't notice I stopped asking you to stay over. I stopped trying to get your attention and you just... you just let me disappear. And the worst part is that I convinced myself it was okay. I convinced myself I was being needy and selfish and that I should just be happy that you're out here helping people, but—"
You broke off, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of tears. Your hands came up to cover your face, and your shoulders shook with the force of your crying.
"I made myself smaller," you whispered into your hands. "I made myself so small because I thought that's what you needed. And you still didn't see me. You still don't see me."
Law was frozen, watching you fall apart in front of him.
"So I figured maybe I was right," you continued, your words coming between sobs. "Maybe you don't need me anymore. Maybe I'm not the person you wanted. Maybe I'm just... maybe I'm just taking up space in your life that someone better could fill."
"Stop," Law said, and his voice was different now. Sharp. Frightened.
"No, I won't stop," you said, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes red and puffy. "Because I've been quiet for two months, Law. Two months of watching you ignore me, of making excuses for you, of telling myself that I was being unreasonable. But I'm not unreasonable. I'm heartbroken. I'm heartbroken because the person I love chose someone else, and he doesn't even realize he did it."
"That's not true," he said, but his voice was uncertain now.
"Isn't it?" you asked bitterly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "When was the last time you looked at me the way you look at her? When was the last time you remembered I existed?"
"You matter," he said urgently, crossing the space between you. "Of course you matter. You're the most important—"
"Then why doesn't it feel like it?" you screamed, and the rawness in your voice seemed to shake him. "Why does it feel like you tolerate me? Like I'm something you have but don't actually want? You make me feel so fucking small, Law, and the worst part is I know you don't mean to. But that doesn't make it hurt less."
You sank down onto the couch, completely overwhelmed, your entire body wracked with sobs. You couldn't catch your breath. Every word felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.
"I thought you needed me," you whispered, barely audible between the crying. "That's what kept me sane at first. I thought maybe this was temporary, that you were just focused on helping her and then things would go back to normal. But they didn't. They just got worse. And I started to think... maybe he doesn't need me anymore. Maybe I was never what he needed in the first place."
Law stood there, completely still, and when you looked up at him through your tears, you saw something break in his expression.
"I didn't know," he said, and his voice was hollow. "I didn't realize."
"That's the problem," you said, fresh tears falling. "You didn't even try to realize. You were too busy to notice your girlfriend was disappearing right in front of you."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Law looked at you like you'd just told him something that fundamentally shattered his understanding of reality. His brain was doing that thing it did when he encountered information that didn't fit—processing, calculating, searching for the logical error. But this time, his face showed something else. Actual fear. Actual horror at what he'd done.
"I need you," he said finally, and it wasn't an apology. It was a realization, desperate and terrified. "I didn't know you felt this way, but I—I need you. I can't—I don't want to lose you."
"I'm already lost," you said quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. "I've been lost for months."
Law wasn't good with feelings. This was something you'd accepted about him early on in your relationship. He could read people, understand them intellectually, but emotional expression didn't come naturally to him. He was more comfortable in the realm of logic and problem-solving.
But what he did that night was try in the most broken, desperate way.
He sat down next to you, and he was crying too—quiet tears that he didn't seem to notice. His hands hovered over you like he didn't know if he was allowed to touch you.
"I'm sorry," he said, and his voice was raw. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I didn't understand that I was doing that to you. I thought I was just helping. I thought you understood. But I made you feel invisible and that's—that's unforgivable."
"I can't hear this right now," you said, still crying, still broken.
"Then what do you need?" he asked desperately. "Tell me what you need."
You didn't answer. You just sat there, falling apart, and after a moment, he carefully pulled you against him. He didn't try to comfort you with words—he seemed to understand that words would fail him. So he just held you while you cried, his own tears falling into your hair, his body shaking slightly.
"I'm going to fix this," he whispered into the darkness. "I don't know how yet, but I'm going to fix it. I'm not losing you. I can't—I won't lose you."
After that night, he tried.
He stopped helping Kira entirely at first, which you had to sit him down and tell him not to do.
"She's your friend," you said, your voice still hoarse from crying, your eyes still swollen. "And helping her is important. I don't want you to resent me because you stopped being a good person. I just... I need you to remember that I exist too."
"I know," he said, and he looked haunted. Like the realization of what he'd done was eating him alive. "I will. I'm going to be better."
He put his laptop away during dinner. He asked you about your day and actually listened—like your answer mattered more than anything else in the world. He texted you during breaks at work, little stupid things that meant he was thinking about you.
He also started therapy, which surprised you. "I need to understand why I do this," he told you. "Why I get so focused on fixing things that I forget the person I love needs fixing too."
It took longer to rebuild than you expected. Trust was fragile, and you'd spent months convincing yourself that you weren't worth his time. That took more than a few weeks of attention to undo.
But one Friday night, about a month later, Law set up the living room for movie night. He made popcorn. He turned his phone off—actually off, not just on silent. And when you settled against him, his arm came around you immediately, like it always used to.
Halfway through the movie, he spoke quietly into the darkness.
"I'm sorry," he said again. He said it a lot these days. "For making you feel like you didn't matter. For being so focused on solving her problems that I couldn't see you were hurting. For choosing being helpful over being present. For making you feel small."
You turned to look at him. In the glow of the TV, he looked younger somehow. More vulnerable.
"I'm sorry too," you whispered. "For not just telling you sooner. For convincing myself that I was being needy."
"You're not needy," he said, and his voice was firm in that way it got when he was making a diagnosis. "You need what everyone needs—to feel like you matter to the person you're with. That's not needy. That's just... human."
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you felt something settle in your chest. Not a complete healing—that would take time—but a beginning. A small seed of trust being replanted.
Later, much later, when you were both half-asleep and the movie had ended, Law murmured against your hair:
"You matter. I need you. I'm going to keep reminding you until you actually believe it."
And maybe it was because you were on the edge of sleep, or maybe it was because he sounded so genuinely determined about it, but you found yourself smiling.
He really did try. In his own awkward, logical, emotion-averse way, he really, truly tried.
And maybe that was enough.
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"Maybe You Should Be With Her"
Zoro | Modern AU | Angst/Comfort
Zoro was the densest person you'd ever met.
This wasn't a new realization—you'd known this about him from the beginning. He once walked into a glass door at the gym. He texted you "hey where are you" while you were literally sitting next to him. He got lost in a building with only three rooms.
But until Kuina showed up at his boxing gym, his density had never really hurt you.
"This is Kuina," Zoro said one evening, introducing you to a tall woman with long dark hair and the kind of intense stare that made you immediately uncomfortable. "She just joined the gym. She's incredible with swords—well, I mean, she does kendo, which is basically swords, and she's really good at it."
You managed a smile that didn't reach your eyes.
"Nice to meet you," you said politely.
"You too," Kuina said, barely glancing at you before turning back to Zoro. "Are we training tonight?"
"Yeah, come on," he said, already moving toward the training area.
You watched him go, a small pit forming in your stomach.
It was fine. It was totally fine. Zoro was allowed to have friends at the gym. It was probably nothing.
Except then it wasn't nothing.
Kuina became a permanent fixture in your relationship with Zoro.
"Kuina and I are sparring on Tuesday," he'd announce.
"I promised to help Kuina practice for a competition," he'd explain on Friday.
"Kuina's having trouble with her stance on a new move, want to come watch?" he'd ask, not seeming to register that you'd already declined versions of this invitation four times.
You started keeping track, which was probably unhealthy, but you couldn't help it. You found yourself counting how many times he mentioned her name. How many times he lit up when he talked about training with her. How he'd explain technical details about her swordplay with more passion than he'd ever shown when talking about your job.
Your friends noticed before he did.
"So... Zoro's found his soulmate, huh?" Luffy joked during a group dinner, watching Zoro check his phone for the third time.
"What?" Zoro looked up, genuinely confused.
"You keep texting Kuina," Luffy said. "During our dinner."
"She's working on a combo and wanted to know if I had any tips," Zoro said, as if this explained everything.
You said nothing. You chewed your food carefully and tried not to think about how Zoro had barely looked at you all night.
After dinner, in the car on the way home, you couldn't help yourself.
"You could've just met her tomorrow," you said quietly.
"What?" Zoro glanced over at you.
"To give her tips. You're seeing her tomorrow anyway, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but she asked tonight, so I—" He paused, genuinely not understanding why this was a problem. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong? Everything. Everything was wrong.
"Nothing," you said, turning to stare out the window. "Never mind."
By week six, you'd stopped going to the gym with him altogether.
You used to love the gym. You'd started going just to be near him, to watch his focused intensity, the way his body moved through space with such deliberate precision. It was one of your favorite things, just being in that space, existing alongside him while he did something he loved.
But now the gym meant watching him with Kuina.
And Kuina—the universe's most beautiful, talented, perfect swordswoman—always seemed to need something from him. Form corrections. Technique advice. Someone to spar with when no one else was available (even though there were always other people available).
And Zoro, in his complete and utter density, never seemed to notice how she looked at him.
She looked at him like he hung the moon.
You recognized the look because you used to wear it yourself.
"Why don't you come anymore?" he asked one night, completely oblivious to the fact that you'd been withdrawing for weeks.
"I'm just busy lately," you said, which was both true and a lie. You were busy avoiding the slow death of your relationship in real time.
"Kuina asked about you the other day," he said, and you almost laughed. "She said you seemed cool and she wanted to get to know you better."
Of course she did. That's what she'd said to Zoro, probably. Let's all be friends, let's be a trio, and in time you won't even remember you were ever dating him because we'll just be a unit, and when he chooses me, it'll feel inevitable.
You didn't say any of this. Instead, you made an excuse about a work deadline.
The breaking point came on a Saturday afternoon.
You'd been trying all week to get Zoro's attention. You'd planned a date—restaurant reservation, the works. You'd even asked him specifically if Saturday was free.
"Yeah, Saturday's free," he'd said. "I'll let you know if anything changes."
Something changed.
At 5 PM, an hour before your reservation, he texted: "Kuina's competition moved up. It's tonight. I have to go watch. I'm so sorry. Can we reschedule?"
You stared at the text for a long moment.
Rescheduled. Like it was nothing. Like you weren't sitting in a dress that suddenly felt too tight, like you hadn't been looking forward to this for two weeks, like this was the fifth time in the past month that he'd canceled plans with you for her.
You called him.
"Hello?" he picked up immediately.
"Zoro, what are you doing?"
"I'm heading to the competition. Kuina's been training for weeks and—"
"We had plans," you said quietly.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but—"
"Do you know how many times you've canceled on me for her?"
There was a pause. You could practically hear him thinking, trying to compile a list, failing because he'd genuinely lost count.
"It's not like that," he said finally.
"What's it like then?" Your voice was rising now, and you couldn't stop it. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you'd rather spend time with her than with me. So maybe you should be with her."
The words hung in the air between you.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, and his confusion was so genuine, so dense, that you wanted to scream.
"I'm talking about the fact that you're in love with her, you idiot! Or if you're not, you're about to be, because you spend every waking moment with her, and you light up when you see her, and—"
"I'm not in love with Kuina," he interrupted, and he sounded genuinely shocked. "She's just... she's fun to train with."
"She's not fun to train with, Zoro, she's—" You took a breath, trying to find the words. "She's a woman who clearly has feelings for you, and you're so dense that you don't even notice. And I've been watching you ignore me for weeks while you spend all your time with her, and I just... I can't do this anymore."
Silence.
"You think I have feelings for Kuina?" he asked slowly.
"I think you should go to her competition," you said coldly. "I think you probably should go to a lot of things with her. And I'm going to take my dress off and eat ice cream instead."
You hung up before he could respond.
He came to your apartment at 10 PM, still wearing his gym clothes. He looked confused, which was his default state, but also genuinely upset, which was rare.
"I didn't go to the competition," he said immediately.
You didn't answer. You were sitting on the couch with exactly the amount of ice cream you'd threatened, still in your dress because you'd been too angry to change.
"I called Kuina and told her I couldn't make it," he continued. "She understood. She said something about being glad I had someone I cared about more."
"What?" You looked up at him.
Zoro sat down on the couch, and he looked genuinely miserable in a way you'd rarely seen. "I'm dense," he said. "I know I'm dense. But I'm not stupid. And I'm not... I don't have feelings for Kuina."
"You spend all your time with her," you said, but your voice was softer now.
"Because training with her makes me better," he said. "And I thought you understood that. I thought... I didn't realize I was making you feel bad. If you didn't want me training with her, you could've just said something. You didn't have to withdraw like this."
"I tried," you said quietly. "I asked you to come home. I asked you to spend time with me. I scheduled a date. And you canceled. For her."
"Because I'm an idiot who doesn't understand that people need attention," he said, and there was real frustration in his voice. "I didn't know. I was just... training. Hanging out with someone who gets it, you know? And I wasn't thinking about how you felt because I'm the worst at that."
He put his head in his hands.
"I don't have feelings for Kuina," he repeated. "I don't know how I could. You're the one I..." He paused, searching for words, which seemed to be difficult for him. "You're the one I want to be with. You're the one I think about when I'm not training. You're the one I come home to."
You felt something crack open inside your chest.
"Then why didn't you show me that?" you whispered.
"Because I'm dense," he said again, and this time he sounded almost angry at himself. "Because I got comfortable thinking you'd always be there, and I stopped trying. And I didn't realize until you said it that I was losing you."
Zoro wasn't good at apologies. He was even worse at expressing feelings.
But he tried.
He started by cutting back on training with Kuina—not abandoning her, but finding a balance. He made sure to spend specific time with you, and at first, you had to remind him, but gradually it became automatic.
He also did something you didn't expect: he asked you for help.
"I don't want to hurt you again," he said one night. "But I'm bad at reading people. So I'm going to ask you directly when something's wrong, and you have to tell me. Even if you think I should already know. Because I probably don't."
It was painfully honest, and very Zoro.
There was also the night he came home early from training with Kuina, and when you asked why, he said: "Because I realized I'd been coming home late every day for the past two months, and that's not fair to you. So, I told her I'd only train with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the rest is free time for us."
You'd actually cried at that. It was such a small thing, but it meant he'd listened. That he understood.
And a week later, when you went to the gym with him and Kuina for the first time in months, he introduced you with clear pride, with an arm around your waist, with a smile that made it obvious to anyone with eyes that you were his person.
Later, in the car ride home, you asked: "Did you really not know that Kuina was interested in you?"
"No," he said honestly. "I thought you were just paranoid. But then when you said it out loud, I realized... yeah, actually, that makes sense. But I don't feel that way about her, and once I knew it was a problem, it was easy to set a boundary."
"It should've been easy even without me saying it," you said, not unkindly.
"I know," he agreed. "I'm going to be better. I'm going to pay attention. To you. I'm not going to take you for granted again."
And maybe that was naive to believe him, but Zoro's density came with a certain reliability. When he made a commitment, he followed through. It just took him a while to realize what he'd committed to in the first place.
You reached over and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, never taking his eyes off the road.
It wasn't a perfect ending. But it was a real one, and sometimes that was enough.
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"Everyone Thinks They're Dating"
Luffy | Modern AU | Angst/Comfort
Luffy was incapable of understanding subtlety.
This was something you'd accepted about him within the first week of dating. He was loud, open, uninhibited. He'd tell you he loved you in the middle of a crowded restaurant. He'd kiss you in front of your parents without a second thought. He was the least subtle human being you'd ever met.
So when he started spending every waking moment with Boa, you should have expected that he wouldn't notice it was a problem.
"Boa's taking me to this new arcade downtown," he announced one Tuesday, already halfway out the door. "She says they have this impossible fighting game, and she wants to see if I can beat it. I'm gonna beat it."
"We were supposed to have dinner," you said quietly.
"Oh, right," he said, slapping his forehead. "Can we reschedule? Boa said the arcade is only open late on Tuesdays and—"
"It's fine," you said, even though it wasn't fine. "Go."
He'd given you a quick kiss on the cheek—that and nothing else—before running out the door.
That was week one.
By week four, Boa was a permanent fixture in both your lives, and Luffy still hadn't noticed that something was fundamentally wrong.
"Boa and I are going rock climbing on Saturday," he'd announce.
"Boa knows this amazing restaurant, want to come?" (But the way he asked made it clear he'd be fine if you didn't.)
"I promised Boa I'd help her move her couch. Should take like four hours."
You'd started declining invitations around week two. Not because you didn't want to spend time with him, but because watching him with Boa was like watching someone slowly erase you from the picture.
Boa was everything you weren't. She was adventurous where you were cautious. She was bold where you were quiet. She climbed rocks and went skydiving and did things on a whim. She made Luffy's eyes light up in a way that made your stomach turn.
And the worst part? She wasn't even doing it on purpose. She seemed genuinely oblivious to the fact that she was stealing your boyfriend.
Or maybe she wasn't oblivious. Maybe you were just invisible.
"So when are you going to admit you're troubled by her?" Nami asked, cornering you at work.
"What?" You looked up from your desk.
"Luffy and Boa. Everyone can see it."
Your chest did a painful flip. "What do you mean, everyone?"
"Come on," Nami said gently. "He's with her literally every day. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Half the group thinks they're already dating."
"They're not dating," you said automatically. "I'm dating Luffy."
"Are you?" Nami asked, and there was real concern in her eyes. "Because from where I'm standing, he spends more time with Boa than with you."
You didn't have a response to that.
You started disappearing in smaller ways first.
You stopped texting him throughout the day. If he didn't think to ask how your day was, well, that was just how things were now.
You stopped asking him to stay over. When he'd bounce into your apartment with endless energy, you'd suggest he get rest at his own place.
You stopped smiling.
It wasn't a conscious choice. It was just that one day you woke up and realized that you'd been feeling hollow for so long that you couldn't remember what genuine happiness felt like. You were going through the motions, existing in the margins of Luffy's life, waiting for him to notice you.
He didn't notice.
But someone else did.
Sanji, one of your coworkers, started noticing the way you'd stare at your lunch without eating it. The way you'd zone out during meetings. The way your smile—when you managed one at all—never reached your eyes.
"You okay?" he asked one afternoon, catching you alone in the break room.
"I'm fine," you said automatically.
"You're not," he said gently, and there was real concern in his eyes. "You haven't been fine for weeks. What's going on?"
And something about his kindness, his actual noticing, broke through your defenses. So you told him. You told him about Luffy and Boa, about feeling invisible, about the slow erosion of your relationship.
Sanji listened. He actually listened, asking follow-up questions, remembering details you mentioned, treating your pain like it mattered.
And then he started showing up for you in the ways Luffy wasn't.
He'd text you to check in. "How's your day?" And he'd actually wait for an answer. He'd invite you to lunch and ask about your week. He'd remember that you liked coffee with extra foam and bring it to you without being asked.
You weren't romantically interested in Sanji. But you were grateful for him in a way that terrified you. Because you were getting what you needed from someone else, and it made it painfully clear what you weren't getting from Luffy.
One evening, Sanji asked if you wanted to go see a movie. Just as friends, he clarified quickly, but he knew you'd been stressed and thought you could use a break.
You said yes.
Luffy found out about the movie from Nami.
"Oh yeah, Sanji asked your girlfriend to go see that new action flick," Nami mentioned casually. "Seemed like a fun outing."
Something shifted in Luffy's expression. His usual bright energy dimmed completely. "He asked her out?"
"No, it was just a movie," Nami said, but she was watching him carefully. "Why? Is that a problem?"
"No," Luffy said immediately, but it clearly was.
He showed up at your apartment that night unannounced, which was normal for him. Except he looked different. His usual bright energy was completely gone, replaced by something that looked almost like anxiety.
"Hey," he said, and his voice was quieter than usual. "Where were you?"
"I went to a movie with Sanji," you said, not bothering to hide it. "A coworker."
"Sanji," he repeated, and you could see his jaw tightening. "From work?"
"Yes."
"Did he..." Luffy paused, struggling with words, which was rare for him. "Is he interested in you?"
You could have said yes. You could have let him believe it. But instead, you said: "Does it matter? You're busy with Boa."
"I'm not busy with Boa," he said, and there was an edge to his voice now. Frustration, maybe, or something else. Something hurt. "I'm with you."
"Are you?" you asked quietly. "Because it doesn't feel like it."
Luffy looked at you like you'd just said something that didn't compute. Like his brain couldn't process a reality where you'd spent time with another man, where you'd chosen to be somewhere other than with him.
"I don't like this," he said finally.
"Don't like what?"
"You and Sanji. I don't like that he's... that he's there for you when I'm not."
And something in those words—the realization that he'd finally noticed, finally understood that someone else was filling the space he'd left empty—seemed to crack something open inside him.
"Wait," he said, and his voice changed completely. It became smaller, more vulnerable. "You're only spending time with him because I wasn't spending time with you, right?"
You didn't answer, and that was answer enough.
"Oh," Luffy said quietly, and you could see the understanding dawn on his face. The horror of what he'd done. "Oh no. I... I did that. I made you so unhappy that you'd rather be with someone else. I pushed you away so much that you found someone else to be with."
He looked like he might be sick.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked desperately.
"I did," you whispered. "You just weren't listening. You were too busy with Boa. I kept trying to get your attention and you just... you chose her every time. So I stopped trying. And then Sanji noticed I was falling apart, and he actually cared enough to help me."
Luffy flinched like you'd physically hit him. His eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry," he said, and his voice cracked. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was losing you until I thought someone else was taking you away. That's not fair to you. I should have seen how much I was hurting you. I should have noticed before it got this bad."
Luffy cried when he realized what he'd done.
Not a little bit. Full-on, unrestrained tears, the way he did everything else—completely without filter or reservation.
"I'm sorry," he kept saying. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't understand, but that's not an excuse, I should have paid attention, I should have—" He broke off, unable to finish.
"It's okay," you tried to say, but he shook his head violently.
"It's not okay. You were sad and I didn't see it. You asked me for help and I wasn't there. I made you feel like you don't matter when you're the most important person to me."
He pulled you into his arms, and he held you so tightly you could barely breathe.
"I'm going to fix this," he said into your neck. "I'm going to be better. I'm going to pay attention. I'm going to make sure you know how much you matter."
"Luffy—"
"No," he said firmly. "I'm going to do it. Every day, I'm going to make sure you know that you're the one I want. Not Boa. Not anyone. You."
He didn't let go of you. Not for the rest of the night.
When you tried to get up to go to the bathroom, he followed you. When you suggested he go home, he refused completely.
"I'm staying," he announced. "I'm not leaving. You're stuck with me now."
He held you while you cried. He held you while you slept. He held you like you were something precious that he'd almost lost, and now that he understood what he'd done, he couldn't bear to let go.
Around 3 AM, when you stirred, he was awake.
"Hey," he said softly. "I'm here. I'm sorry. I'm here now."
"I know," you whispered.
"I love you," he said, and he said it like he was telling you something crucial. Something that needed to be said over and over until you understood it completely. "Not as an afterthought. Not when I'm not busy with something else. I love you like you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. That's how much I love you."
You pressed your face into his chest, and he tightened his arms around you.
"I'm going to remind you every day," he promised. "Until you believe it."
Luffy wasn't good at subtle apologies. They were loud and obvious and sometimes embarrassing.
He texted Boa immediately and told her he couldn't spend as much time with her, that he needed to focus on his relationship. He was blunt about it: "I was kind of ignoring my girlfriend and that was wrong."
He started saying "I love you" constantly. In the morning, at night, in the middle of conversations. Sometimes three times in a single sentence.
"We're going out tonight. I love you and I want to spend time with you."
He set alarms on his phone to remind himself to text you during the day. At first they were random, but he got better, asking you about your day, actually waiting for the answer.
He also did something you didn't expect: he sat you down and asked you to help him understand.
"I don't always read people right," he admitted. "But I want to read you. So if I mess up again, I need you to tell me. Directly. Don't wait for me to notice. I might not notice."
"I told you directly before," you said quietly.
"I know, and I didn't listen, which is on me," he said. "But going forward, I'm going to listen. I promise."
And he did. When you said you needed him, he was there. When you were having a bad day, he'd drop everything. He'd never again miss a moment with you for someone else.
It wasn't perfect. Luffy was still impulsive and could still be thoughtless. But the difference was that now, when you told him something was wrong, he actually heard you. He actually changed.
The night you realized you were smiling again—genuinely smiling, not the hollow imitation you'd been wearing—Luffy noticed immediately.
"There you are," he said, and he said it like he'd been waiting for you to come back.
He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to see you," he murmured.
"You see me now," you said. "That's what matters."
"I'm going to keep seeing you," he promised. "Every day. Forever. That's a promise."
And with Luffy, promises were sacred. Once he committed to something, he committed completely.
You'd learned that the hard way, and you were learning it again now—but this time, it felt like coming home instead of fading away.
End.
@preeyas-world lots of love
