The sea was unsettlingly calm, the sky a mass of heavy gray clouds, pressing down on the water like a suffocating blanket. Rob Lucci stood at the bow of his ship, arms folded across his chest, his cold gaze fixed on the horizon. The ship sliced through the water silently, the air thick with an oppressive stillness that matched his mood.
Everything felt wrong. The usual sharpness of his mind was dulled, and an unfamiliar tension had settled over him ever since she had boarded his ship. The agent from CP5—separated from her team, lost in the confusion of a botched mission. She had appeared unexpectedly, climbing aboard without ceremony, her presence an intrusion into the calculated world Lucci had built around himself.
At first, he had seen her as nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. A liability. Someone to be dealt with when the time was right. But as the days passed, she had become something else. An odd contrast to the dreary atmosphere of the ship, her vibrant energy clashing with the cold, sterile surroundings.
She had a certain liveliness about her, a lightness in the way she moved and spoke, even when faced with the grim reality of her situation. Lucci had found it disarming, though he would never admit it. She didn't seem to belong here, in this world of shadows and death. And yet, here she was, a splash of color in his otherwise gray existence.
He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched her from a distance. She was leaning against the rail, looking out at the endless expanse of ocean with a wistful expression. Her posture was relaxed, her face softened by the dim light filtering through the clouds. She seemed out of place, yet strangely at home at the same time.
Lucci couldn't understand it. The feeling gnawed at him, a sharp, unfamiliar ache in his chest that he couldn't shake. He was used to precision, control, the predictable flow of events. But she—she was unpredictable. And that unsettled him.
She turned her head, catching him watching her. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she straightened, walking over to where he stood. Her footsteps were light, almost hesitant, but her expression was calm, as if she wasn't afraid of him—or anything at all.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing to the vast, cloud-covered sea. Her voice was soft, almost melodic, as if she saw something in the bleakness that he didn't.
Lucci's gaze flicked to the horizon for a brief second before returning to her. "No."
Her smile didn't falter. If anything, it grew, as if she found his bluntness amusing. "Well, I guess it's a matter of perspective," she said, leaning against the rail beside him. "There's beauty even in the emptiness, if you know where to look."
He said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he studied her more closely. There was something different about her, something that defied the cold logic he was so accustomed to. She wasn't like the other agents he had worked with—cutthroat, ruthless, always looking for an edge. She was... softer, in a way that should have made her weak. But instead, it made her stand out.
"You shouldn't be here," Lucci said finally, his voice low and even. "This ship, this life—it's not for you."
She glanced at him, her eyes shimmering with something he couldn't quite place. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't really have anywhere else to go."
Her honesty took him off guard, and for a moment, Lucci found himself at a loss for words. She wasn't trying to manipulate him, wasn't angling for some kind of advantage. She was just... there. A stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded him, her presence a reminder of something he had long since buried.
He turned to face her fully, his gaze intense, as if trying to figure her out. "Why are you still here?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration. "Why haven't you left?"
She met his eyes, unflinching. "Because you need me."
The words hit him harder than they should have, piercing through the armor he had spent years perfecting. He opened his mouth to refute her, to deny the ridiculous notion, but no words came. Because, deep down, he knew there was some truth to it.
He had spent so long in isolation, wrapped in his own world of violence and duty, that he had forgotten what it felt like to need someone. To want someone. But with her... it was different. She was different. She had walked into his life like a breath of fresh air, and now that she was here, he wasn't sure he could let her go.
"I don't need anyone," he said finally, his voice colder than he intended.
She smiled again, that same gentle, knowing smile that made his chest tighten in a way he didn't understand. "Maybe not," she said softly, stepping closer, her hand brushing against his arm. "But that doesn't mean you have to be alone."
Lucci's jaw clenched, his muscles tensing at the contact. He wanted to push her away, to retreat back into the safety of his solitude. But he couldn't. Not anymore.
For the first time in a long time, he felt something more than just anger, more than just duty. And it terrified him.
Without a word, he reached out, his hand closing around her wrist, pulling her closer. She didn't resist, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked up at him. His grip was firm, but not painful, a silent claim that neither of them could deny.
"You should be afraid of me," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not the man you think I am."
She looked up at him, her eyes soft but unwavering. "I'm not afraid."
Lucci's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of her words sinking deep into him. He didn't understand how or why, but in that moment, something shifted. The cold emptiness that had defined his life for so long was replaced by a new, unfamiliar warmth. A warmth that only she could bring.
He pulled her into him, his lips brushing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. It wasn't gentle, wasn't tender—it was raw, hungry, a reflection of everything he had been holding back. And yet, she responded with equal passion, her arms wrapping around him as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Lucci stared down at her, his grip tightening slightly. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice a low growl.
She smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I've always belonged to you."
YOU ARE READING
ONE PIECE one shots,,
Hayran Kurgu"I apologize if any grammatical mistakes were found in these one shots, as English isn't my first language and I'm embarrassed to have made lots of mistake in spelling very frequently!" ~ sincerely, author...
