Zoro Roronoa is a retired black-ops agent suffering from PTSD; after moving to a small town and getting married in hopes of leaving that life behind him, a chance meeting with a smarmy, blond paramedic changes all of that. Thus ensues a summer of te...
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Eyes sliding open with reluctance, Zoro stared at the canopy of the room for several moments as shadows of early dawn crept across the ceiling. The unease of sleep had returned with a vengeance and it seemed that the stress of their situation had him back into his old habits like nothing had changed; all the progress he had made in the past couple months completely thrown out the window.
Pushing himself up with a stifled grunt, he found the wound in his side flaring up painfully; kicking himself mentally, he realized he had completely forgotten to clean and redress it before going to bed. Getting to his feet with a wince, he eventually found himself standing, albeit a little short of breath due to the pain shooting up his side.
Being careful not to wake the sleeping blond in the bed across the room, he rummaged through his pack until he found his medical kit. He softly made his way from the room, but found himself pausing at the doorway as he caught a glimpse of the sleeping blond sprawled out amongst the blankets.
Eyes peacefully shut, his messy array of curly blond hair fanned out across the pillow with his bangs falling onto his face, several rustling with each steady breath he took. Deep, calm exhales from between barely parted lips as Zoro realized he had never seen the man sleeping like this before.
The absence of all the brilliant smiles and cocky grins left his face lax and completely void of any emotion, the vulnerable expression making him seem much older. It was as though all his exhaustion and age was simply hidden by a facade of laughter and animated commentary.
Tearing his gaze away with a heavy sigh, Zoro forced himself to leave the room despite the longing burning in his chest. Stumbling into the bathroom, Zoro turned on the tap and splashed a handful of water onto his face before glancing up at himself in the mirror. He glared hard at the disgruntled expression that he met there as he continued to quietly berate himself over the feelings whirling inside him that simply refused to go away.
A twinge from his side interrupted his thoughts and brought him back to the more pertinent task at hand. Hooking his shirt up and over his head, he held his breath to keep himself from grunting at the pain throbbing his side. Wheezing a little, he flung the bloodstained rag into the tub behind him and set about tearing the makeshift bandage from the oozing wound. It was a slow process as the scabbing had begun to heal into the pores of the bandage and as Zoro pulled it away fresh blood pooled in the open crevasses.
"Oh, fuck." Came breathlessly from the doorway and Zoro turned idly to find Sanji standing with his hand still poised on the door handle, eyes glued to Zoro's naked torso, jaw hanging slack. Standing dumbly for several moments as Zoro glanced down and noted the exposed wound he had just been examining, before looking back up at the blond, who seemed to have recovered as he coughed dryly into his fist, "Um..."
Zoro just stood silently and waited.
"That... um..." Sanji scrambled in a panicked tone, guilt scratching the back of his neck yet not raising his gaze to Zoro as he managed thickly, "That looks infected."
