Collection of One Piece Short Stories and One Shots

Little Game prt. 3

You never slept.

It was the conclusion Mihawk had come to after days of trying to best you at your game. He could try storming your forest in the middle of the day, the break of morning, or in the dead of night and you would be there, blocking his path--knocking him back onto the black sands of the beach he had made camp on.

You never slept. Never ate. Never rested. You were always there, tracking him like some jungle cat.

"Given up, runt?" Your silky smooth voice spoke from somewhere behind where he sat on the beach, a fire snapping and cracking before him.

You had ventured out of your shadowy woods. A rare occasion.

Mihawk continued to prepare the fish he had caught just a few minutes prior to your arrival. His yellow eyes never once traveled to find you, despite his overwhelming want to look upon your mystical beauty.

"Hardly." He huffed, cutting away a slab of white flesh from the fish before him, skewering it on a sharped stick.

Your footfalls were silent. So silent he might have not heard them had he not been listening to you. To the way your breath fell from your lungs, how your hair moved in the slight breeze that brushed past them, how your fingers tapped lightly at something wooden you carried.

"Do all you pirates only live off a diet of fish and water?" You asked, now at his side. Mihawk kept his eyes away from you. Away from the distraction you had become to him as he roasted the bit of fish over the fire.

"Do all you wood nymphs live off a diet of air? Or do you eat the twigs littering the forest floor?" He heard you give a small huff in something a kin to amusement.

"We feed off the souls of those we choose to torment." Humor. You were--joking with him. "Be thankful I haven't claimed yours."

Mihawk's eyes could hardly keep away from you any longer and he turned his head slightly to give in to your distraction. And what a distraction you were. So--stunningly distracting. Such a collection of danger and beauty. You were a creature come straight from myth.

It had Mihawk wishing to grab your wrist and pull you into him. To partake in all the pleasures of the body. Pleasures he had never allowed himself because they were a distraction.

He had a goal. A goal he could not afford to be distracted from.

"And tell me, Guardian. Why haven't you claimed my living soul?" You blinked down at him, tapping at the wooden box you held in your hands once more.

"And end our game? I think not." You said, a playful smirk on your lips before brushing off the topic entirely when you knelt beside him. Your eyes, so sharp and shielded against any true emotions you might be feeling blinked at him again. He watched as your lashes brushed against the tops of your cheeks in an airy kiss.

Mihawk felt his body stir at your closeness. A closeness that was not brought on by battle, but of your own free volition.

Again he was distracted by you. Distracted and all but unguarded against any sort of attack you might wield against him. Distracted because all he could think of was your lips and your hair and your cheeks and your stunning eyes. Distracted and wanting to lean into such distractions. To grab you and hold you against his body and keep you there.

"Have you ever had garum?" Mihawk blinked at you, eyes sharpening as he processed what you had said.

"No." Was all Mihawk could muster up at that moment when your rarity was overwhelming his typical sense of clarity. You huffed, inviting yourself to sit in the black sand next to him. "What are you--"