"It's been a while since someone challenged you to a duel, Mihawk."
"I'm well aware."
"Like... a very long time..."
You rubbed your chin in thought. Though it wasn't uncommon for him to get into fights, if they could even be called that considering his power, the people who challenged him were few and far between.
I can't remember the last time that he dueled another swordsman. Whoever wants to kill him usually has a gun or something.
You did recall a time –years ago– that he'd set sail to meet up with an old acquaintance whom he sparred with, but he had randomly stopped heading out specifically for that. It has been a good while since your husband has seen a good fight. With where he stands, power-wise, it makes sense. It was a wonder how he wasn't eternally bored from being the strongest swordsman in the world.
Who he fought with– you already knew that it was Shanks. That was because Mihawk referred to him as an annoying counterpart. You understood that in your soul– Shanks was an annoying kid when you were with him on Roger's ship.
Seriously– who argues whether the south or north pole is colder?
You haven't seen that idiotic red head in a while yourself, and Mihawk had stopped going to fight with him mysteriously years ago. Eh, you'd see him again someday. There wasn't really a rush.
You hummed, folding your arms over your chest and crossing one leg over the other as you sat at your reserved table. The lighting was low and romantic. A few candles were lit on the cloth in front of you, but you had yet to order. Night air chilled you sometimes, giving you goosebumps just as it did now– it wasn't much of a problem, though. You were still too busy caught up with how Mihawk was going to murder that boy tomorrow. Hopefully he'd be fine with a funeral at sea.
"Looks like you're killing someone in the morning."
He dipped his head forward, his hawkish eyes closing for a moment. "I'll be needing that necklace back by dawn tomorrow."
I figured. He always says that he never hunts rabbits with a cannon. You nodded as a small sigh left you. "I doubt you'll be using Yoru in the first place..."
Trailing off, you glance a bit over your shoulder. It's a bit hard to see Zoro's little group. His friends were definitely trying to talk him out of it. You'd be doing the same if you were in their position. There wasn't anybody in the world who you could piss off more than Dracule Mihawk– and not only receive an ass beating, but a whole death sentence. And if there was someone you wouldn't want to upset, it would still be him.
Mihawk was more focused on you. His eyes trailed down from your face, his gaze gradually moving lower. First, your jawline, then your neck. Your collarbone, shoulder, down your arm, and eventually, your smooth hands. He wanted to hold it, but alas, you were in public. Keeping his marriage a secret absolutely sucked because Mihawk wanted to hold you 24/7 without any interruptions from the idiots around him.
Hm... perhaps nobody would notice? It's rather dark, and he doubted that there would be many rumors from a single action.
"Mihawk is a man of restraint"-- Yeah, right.
He reached out and placed his large hand over yours. You looked back upon feeling the touch of his warm and rough fingers. Mihawk traced his thumb over yours slowly.
"Something wrong?"
"Not at all."
You smiled. "Just wanted to...?"
YOU ARE READING
Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me
RomanceBy sheer dumb luck, you've landed yourself a spot in the Shichibukai. You're not even that strong. You're just really good at convincing people to give up. The only person who knows it's all an act is a certain Hawk-Eyed swordsman. If your darling h...