One Piece x Reader [OPEN]

64. An angel and an undead-looking guy (Heat x Female!Reader)

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✎Artist : NowisSoloTime - DeviantArt
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Here is a little helper:
✏︎(y/n)=your name
✏︎(l/n)=your last name
✏︎(h/l)=hair length
✏︎(h/c)=hair color
✏︎(e/c)=eye color
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⋆The words in italics represent thoughts.⋆
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✎This part was heavily inspired by Animegirl683 comment on the poll. It's not a request. I just felt the desire to write this.
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Characteristics of the reader:
✏︎Artist
✏︎Philosophical
✏︎Strong
✏︎Independent
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One brushstroke after another, you were slowly completing your work. As you were taking a break, letting yourself be mesmerized by the sea and its salty smell, a long strand of blue hair rested on your shoulder. "Heat. Is there anything I can do for you?"

He hummed. "I'm simply looking at your artwork." You smiled as you looked upon the brown and orange colours you gave the waves of the sea. It was an odd painting for most people who laid eyes upon it but all of it had a meaning.

"The colours are...unique."

You giggled. The man really did his best to support you in your hobbies just like you supported him with his -just like old friends does- but he wasn't...the best for keeping a poker face. "The colours of this painting are chosen very carefully so that a group among the Daltonians can see the true colours of the environment." (because if you didn't know, there a multiple Daltonian groups.)

"Do you know any?"

"Sorry?"

"Daltonians, do you know any?"

"I don't need to know any to paint for them, do I?" You shared a glance. He looked down. "Forget it. I'll stay quiet."

"Oh please, don't. An extern insight is always interesting to have and... you're the only one who dares to do so. I must say it's quite refreshing."

"It's mostly because I've known you for so long." You smiled lightly. How long has it been? You observed the very prominent thorns tattoos over his body, tattoos you made half a decade ago. You reached for his forearm, your index sliding down to his wrists, following the curves of his tattoo. This caugth his attention but he remained quiet. "Have you ever thought of adding thorns? It's also starting to get paler. Would you like me to go over it?" He frowned. "Well, well is the tattoo artist herself, questioning her own work?"

"Great things are done by a series of small things brought together." you retorted.

"So you're being introspective." Now it was your turn to look down. "...yes. It...doesn't change the fact your tattoos need touch-ups. You, smart ass, don't listen about the skincare I asked you to have." 

He leaned closer as he slid his hair behind his shoulders so they wouldn't fall on the painting. His dark eyes seemed to seek something within yours. "Tell me again." You gulped. This closeness, this glint in his eyes made you weak in the knees. Truth was that he had this effect on you for a year now but there was no way you could tell him that. Was it worth putting at risk a friendship of over two decades for such uncertain feelings? You'd rather not. "Well," you started as your eyes looked down at the floor, "you remember, that cream I gave you when it was fresh and all?" When you looked up even the slightest, you saw his fingers reaching for your cheek. You jolted back. He frowned. "Calm down. You just have some paint in your hair."

"It might have got there when...you know."

A corner of his mouth stretched up, forming the tiniest of a smile. "Touched your hair?"

You nodded vigorously with a stupid smile taped on your face and that was when Heat had enough. He stood up and stood there, looking down at you and you knew, oh you knew, his tone was about to change and so that stupid smile disappeared. "What is it?" Was it worth putting at risk a friendship of over two decades for such uncertain feelings? You'd rather not. But what if this was your only chance to admit how you feel? What if you lied? Would you even be able to forgive yourself? Oh, screw it! "I've not been completely honest with you for a very long time."

Again, he frowned but this time it was different: he seemed...apprehensive. Not only that but there were people around. "Can we go talk elsewhere? Where..." you glanced around, "no one can hear?"

So you both ended up in the pantry and the long silence made you understand you had to start. "Love must be as much a light as it is a flame..."

"Huh?"

"Dude, you literally spit fire."

"Yeah...?" Damn it, philosophical quotes wouldn't work this time. You would have to be...oh lord...you'll have to be direct. "Fire's hot and you spill fire cuz you're..." You waited for him to complete but he didn't. He just looked lost. Like lost lost. Lost. Damn it. "I don't see you as just a friend...for a good year."

"OH." He never looked so alive...It almost scared you and obviously, his body wasn't used to that either as he started producing some steam. "Heat, you're making steam." He inhaled back said steam and coughed on it before trying his very best to regain somewhat a neutral composure. "An angel and an undead-looking guy?"

"Me? An angel?"

"You are to me." Not only did his words make your heart melt, but when his lips touched yours, you felt your knees break down. (yes I know this man doesn't have "lips" per say but he's a sweet cinnamon roll, m'kay?"

So your first kiss occurred in a pantry. HOT. LIKE A FIRE.

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I am very sorry for the wait. Studies were really taking much of my time along with me working a lot on my Killer book. Therefore it did slow me down. Again, all my apologies.

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