[Recipe No.13] [Action, directed to Zoro.]
*Despite having spent the majority of the day furiously cooking for the chefs in the restaurant to take his mind off previous events, Sanji still forced himself to head back to his room to freshen up. He said he would barge in to visit the marimo, didn't he?
The idiot was a bigger idiot than before, but he was still nakama, and the blond didn't want Nami-san telling him off for not taking care of the lump. Moron was probably bleeding everywhere. If he was affected the same way as Sanji was after being returned to their original world, anyway. This was what the cook needed to check up on.
So he strode down the hallways as best as he could without showing the slight limp in his gait, opening doors occasionally, poking his head in and glancing around for the swordsman before shutting them and continuing. Bastard wouldn't tell him his new room number, huh? Well, Sanji would just find it, then.
It didn't take long before the cook opened the right door. A slight smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth at his success, soon accompanied by an arch of his eyebrow at the sleeping swordsman. Didn't he tell him not to fall asleep? Well, the cook had a choice here. Either add another lovely imprint to the swordsman's face, or wait until he woke up. The cook was feeling particularly drained after the day's events, waiting sounded more appealing right now.
Shutting the door with a click behind him, the blond padded over to the swordsman's side, taking a seat on the side of his bed. Cigarette in hand, he studied the sleeping man with a lazy interest for a few moments. Why did the bastard look tamer when he was asleep?*
The idiot was a bigger idiot than before, but he was still nakama, and the blond didn't want Nami-san telling him off for not taking care of the lump. Moron was probably bleeding everywhere. If he was affected the same way as Sanji was after being returned to their original world, anyway. This was what the cook needed to check up on.
So he strode down the hallways as best as he could without showing the slight limp in his gait, opening doors occasionally, poking his head in and glancing around for the swordsman before shutting them and continuing. Bastard wouldn't tell him his new room number, huh? Well, Sanji would just find it, then.
It didn't take long before the cook opened the right door. A slight smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth at his success, soon accompanied by an arch of his eyebrow at the sleeping swordsman. Didn't he tell him not to fall asleep? Well, the cook had a choice here. Either add another lovely imprint to the swordsman's face, or wait until he woke up. The cook was feeling particularly drained after the day's events, waiting sounded more appealing right now.
Shutting the door with a click behind him, the blond padded over to the swordsman's side, taking a seat on the side of his bed. Cigarette in hand, he studied the sleeping man with a lazy interest for a few moments. Why did the bastard look tamer when he was asleep?*