To Tame A Beast

Confession

To fight against one's desires is the greatest of all fights
-Imam Ali
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             Lana gripped the wooden practice sword in front of her so tight her knuckles were white. She breathed heavily, her chest heaving from the physical exertion. She really needed to increase her stamina. The rest of the crew sat in a row off to the side, watching her and Zoro spar; it became their new form of entertainment since he began her training five days ago. Zoro wasn't even winded in the slightest, holding his practice sword with one hand as if it was nothing more than a pencil. An amused smirk twitched on the corner of his mouth as she rolled his wrist, twirling the sword.

"Finished already?" He taunted, stalking towards her slowly. Her eyes darted side to side, noting her surroundings as she stepped backward with each step forward he took.

"Don't underestimate me!" She growled, lunging forward at him, swinging the sword high for a headshot.

     Effortlessly, he blocked the blow, the smirk never wavering from his face, which irritated her even more. She used every more she could think of that he'd taught her so far, but to no avail. All she heard was the smacking of wood against the wood when she desired wood on flesh. Her movements began to grow sluggish as her muscles screamed at her from the strain. Seeing his side was open, she darted swiftly to the left, swinging out with the rest of the strength she could muster.
       Zoro swung his hand out, meeting her strike; the swords crashed together with such force it sent a shock throughout her entire body knocking her flat on her back. Her sword clattered to the side, as he pressed the wooden tip to her throat, standing ominously over her. She inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath, and looked up at him.
       This man was a force to be reckoned with, and she felt heat spread to her cheeks as a blush formed when her eyes trailed up his body. He only wore his usual pants and boots, his shirt discarded on the wooden bench near the tangerine trees. His dark eyes stared at her intensely, and she released a soft gasp, her tongue farting out to moisten her bottom lip. She couldn't focus when he looked at her like that.
      He lifted his sword holding out his hand to help her up, she placed her hand in his, and he yanked her to her feet effortlessly. She snatched her hand away from his with irritation. How was she ever supposed to improve when his skill level was so far above hers? Sanji pranced over to her with a glass of icy golden liquid on a tray with cherries and pineapple skewered on a toothpick resting on top.

"Lana-saaaaaan," he sang, bowing in front of her and holding it up like an offering. Lana took the glass from him gratefully, smiling down at him.

"Thank you, Sanji, thoughtful as always." She praised him, patting the top of his head. He chuckled bashfully as a single drop of blood trickled out from his nose.

     She took a large sip from the straw, the taste of tropical fruit bursting on her tongue, the blended drink cool and refreshing. She closed her eyes, letting out a content sigh. Sanji really was the best Chef.

"Anything for a beautiful lady." He sighed, grasping her hand and placing a brief kiss on her knuckles. She peeked at Zoro from the corner of her eye. His smoldering glare at Sanji was stifling.

A pang of jealousy shot through his chest like lightning. Zoro didn't like how close to her Sanji was. He clenched his fist at his side, throwing it into Sanji's chest to knock him away from her, shoving him hard.

"What was that for? You empty-headed meat bag!" Sanji snarled at him, standing toe to toe with Zoro.

"You're meddling in my training session, you perverted cook. I'm not finished with her yet, so why don't you piss off." He whispered dangerously.