phosphenes (n.) zoro x sanji [roommates au]

chapter 7 - caim

"IT WAS;

SOMETHING

IN THE WAY

YOU BLOOMED."

☞ ☞☞

[zoro]

IT WAS A COMFORTABLE DARKNESS
resting beneath his heavy eyelids. He had finally, painstakingly, drifted off to sleep; a rare treat these days due to his stubborn insomnia. Those three cups of chamomile really worked magic.

It was a horrid, jarring scream that ripped away whatever blissful sleep he had. The shrill cry was a terrible thing, a raw fusion of fear, desperation and helplessness. It was incoherent, but it communicated distinct dread and horror clearly enough, and it came from Sanji's room.

Zoro felt his breath tumble out in a ragged mess, as he stumbled out of bed, his limbs still groggy and asleep. He dashed into Sanji's quarters hastily, almost tripping over his own legs.

He knocked on the door once, twice—before barreling in—a hurricane of worry and frantic breathing.

Then there was a small shivering boy, disappearing within the pool of white sheets, his pale, flushed face barely illuminated by the faint moonlight streaking into the room.

"Z-Zoro?" It was a strange voice, cautious, wary and hoarse, and it sounded so very child-like.

His hair seemed albino for a moment, as his blond was chased away by the silvery light in the room.

"Yeah, I'm here,"
Zoro smiled, relieved, as he assured the fragile boy.

"I'm here."

Tears gushed past the purple-rimmed eyelids and white lashes, as he sobbed—heart-wrenchingly—his pale, bony fingers digging deep into his clothed arms.

"I saw them, Zoro. I-I,"

Zoro had no idea how he came to be on the silky white sheets or how his tanned, rough, calloused hands came to surround the fragile, shuddering blond.

But somehow, it felt right.

[the morning after]

💫

He awoke curled in silky sheets,
warm and contented, to the smell of fragrant bacon.

As the happenings of last night slowly set in, he hastily turned to his side to find it empty.

What was he thinking; intruding into someone's private space like that?

But not an ounce of him regretted his decision.

And strangely, he slept soundly. That was a miracle all on its own.

Gentle sunlight filtered past the curtains, giving him a clear view of Sanji's room---all in its eye-blinding white and bare glory.

There was a simple wooden desk to the side of the window, a small glossy white stand on the side of the bed, supporting an gangly wooden lamp.

The plain, bulky, white wardrobe was beside the grey toilet door.

It was barest of the bare and it was almost devoid of any trinkets, furnitures that might give him a clearer picture of who his roommate was.

Almost devoid, with the exception of a dark oak framed photo of younger Sanji and a scruffy, barrel-bodied, heavily-moustached old man, their arms hanging lazily from each other's shoulders, both throwing their head back in a roaring fit of laughter.

"Zoro!" Sanji's voice like sunlight and bells shook him wide-awake. "You up yet?"

"Y-yeah!" He shouted back and stumbled out of Sanji's room, immediately missing the gentle smell of Sanji's rose cologne and beach fragrance in the air, intoxicating and addicting.

He jumped into the shower of his own room and freed a gush of freezing water to his body, shuddering from the sudden loss of heat.

Grabbing a used towel hanging from his door, he wrapped it below his waist and splashed cold water to his face, before shoving his toothbrush in his mouth.

He was in good spirits.

Really good spirits, he smiled to himself, the bubbling toothpaste spilling past
his stretched lips.

✨

/oops, MIA yet again 😂 😏😤👌/
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