( nami isn’t sure how she of all people could have conditions on love. it’s actually fucking galling, the idea that sanji is only worthy when he’s behaving, that nami only wants him when he’s agreeable. she could prove it right now, when she’s maddest at him. when she comes back tonight after hunting in the bitter cold for hours, and proves she isn’t actually going to run away this time. she’s serious, about sanji, about zoro. it’s time to own up to it.
but she’s also very, very pissed at him. she has an idea that sanji has issues — but he can get in line. so does she. )
yes sanji, i want you to be completely fucking miserable all the time. if i’m so difficult to be with, maybe you need to think about if it’s really me you want, or if i’m just the most convenient woman to hide all your gay feelings for zoro inside of.
[ this is worse than a blow. it's like something's unspooling, pushing him further and further from nami the more he tries to understand her. it is because of zoro, surely she can feel at least that, and maybe she can even read every hatefully carnal thought he's had for him. maybe she can sense that his worry for zoro has been eating at him, eroding away at the connection he's supposed to share with her.
he is an angry person, deeply so, but he's also always been good at turning it off like a switch, and suddenly he can't. the storm of his anger fills him like static, a familiar wash of despair that he can never seem to escape. ]
you're wrong. it's not that. but i think if i told zoro i loved him, he would at least make me feel like he thought the same.
[ pain throbs at his hip, a sudden cut there and gone, leaving a phantom ache. he digs his shirt from his trousers, breathing hard, and — it's gone. the tattoo is gone, and he can't feel nami anymore, a cavernous ache left behind. his eyes fall on the book, his eyes prickling with shame when he reads the words he's written, and he scrambles for his pencil, but then staggers, his hunger debilitating. he hasn't eaten or drank since finding zoro at the circus, too busy at first but then it became a matter of need. a matter of not enough blood and zoro too close to dying. things have only gotten worse since then.
he tries to reach out to nami for help, but there's nothing but a void within him. no tether, no connection, no nothing. he's alone, with just the sharp agony of starvation that uproots painful memories that he's tried to bury. ]
( anger lives in her a chest like a beating heart, pounding against everything else inside her empty cavity. it's sanji's anger too — his frustration, his pain, all of it palpable to her, like a map written in a language only she has the key to. distantly, she knows once they cool off, they'll be fine. she knows she'll apologize to sanji for being incessant and cruel, that they'll fall back into their quiet, unspoken discomfort with each other, and return to the standard of things as the way they are. sanji, openhearted with goodness in his eyes, and nami with her arms stretched out between them, pushing him away.
but it's gone, in a second. nami has to look down to make sure an errant bullet didn't just nail her in the gut, but there's not blood or gore or violence on her. just the painful, quiet emptiness of a missing link, the blood dripping off her tongue at the removal of sanji's tattoo. so — there isn't a solution, then. is that the answer? she was too unkind, too unfair. too explosively resistant that even the person whose been the most patient with her lost his resolve. she couldn't say i love you too and lost the privilege of his feelings — a loss that makes the wintery day even colder, without their bond to warm her chest.
tears well up in her eyes, but she ignores her wet cheeks. she isn't crying. she doesn't care. sanji doesn't want her? that's fine, just fine. she was a terrible witch to him, anyway. he'll be happier somewhere else. her fingers cradle around the invisible strings of her bond with zoro, coddling it like something precious. not pulling him to her, but clinging to him like a wet cat clinging to a warm body in the cold. at least there's that, for now. until nami pisses him off, too. )
so that's how it is? i'm a shitty girlfriend, so i get thrown away like dirt?
( when there's no response, she nods her head to herself. that's how it is. fine. okay. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
( nami isn’t sure how she of all people could have conditions on love. it’s actually fucking galling, the idea that sanji is only worthy when he’s behaving, that nami only wants him when he’s agreeable. she could prove it right now, when she’s maddest at him. when she comes back tonight after hunting in the bitter cold for hours, and proves she isn’t actually going to run away this time. she’s serious, about sanji, about zoro. it’s time to own up to it.
but she’s also very, very pissed at him. she has an idea that sanji has issues — but he can get in line. so does she. )
yes sanji, i want you to be completely fucking miserable all the time.
if i’m so difficult to be with, maybe you need to think about if it’s really me you want, or if i’m just the most convenient woman to hide all your gay feelings for zoro inside of.
no subject
he is an angry person, deeply so, but he's also always been good at turning it off like a switch, and suddenly he can't. the storm of his anger fills him like static, a familiar wash of despair that he can never seem to escape. ]
you're wrong. it's not that.
but i think if i told zoro i loved him, he would at least make me feel like he thought the same.
[ pain throbs at his hip, a sudden cut there and gone, leaving a phantom ache. he digs his shirt from his trousers, breathing hard, and — it's gone. the tattoo is gone, and he can't feel nami anymore, a cavernous ache left behind. his eyes fall on the book, his eyes prickling with shame when he reads the words he's written, and he scrambles for his pencil, but then staggers, his hunger debilitating. he hasn't eaten or drank since finding zoro at the circus, too busy at first but then it became a matter of need. a matter of not enough blood and zoro too close to dying. things have only gotten worse since then.
he tries to reach out to nami for help, but there's nothing but a void within him. no tether, no connection, no nothing. he's alone, with just the sharp agony of starvation that uproots painful memories that he's tried to bury. ]
no subject
but it's gone, in a second. nami has to look down to make sure an errant bullet didn't just nail her in the gut, but there's not blood or gore or violence on her. just the painful, quiet emptiness of a missing link, the blood dripping off her tongue at the removal of sanji's tattoo. so — there isn't a solution, then. is that the answer? she was too unkind, too unfair. too explosively resistant that even the person whose been the most patient with her lost his resolve. she couldn't say i love you too and lost the privilege of his feelings — a loss that makes the wintery day even colder, without their bond to warm her chest.
tears well up in her eyes, but she ignores her wet cheeks. she isn't crying. she doesn't care. sanji doesn't want her? that's fine, just fine. she was a terrible witch to him, anyway. he'll be happier somewhere else. her fingers cradle around the invisible strings of her bond with zoro, coddling it like something precious. not pulling him to her, but clinging to him like a wet cat clinging to a warm body in the cold. at least there's that, for now. until nami pisses him off, too. )
so that's how it is? i'm a shitty girlfriend, so i get thrown away like dirt?
( when there's no response, she nods her head to herself. that's how it is. fine. okay. )
i'm hunting. stay with zoro. be back later.