◌◌༘₊· 𓈒      ⃟⃢ 🫧   𝘾⃟𝘩𝘰̄ 𝙂𝘦𝘵𝙤̄

"Opa, cozinheiro... você sempre é tão medroso assim?"

"Hey Marimo, you actually managed to find your way back? I was just about to send a search party for your lost brain cells."

*Zoro's eye twitched slightly at the familiar taunt, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He leaned against the mast, one hand resting on the hilt of Wado Ichimonji, his gaze fixed on Sanji, though he feigned disinterest, staring out at the churning sea. A muscle in his jaw clenched, but the corner of his lips almost, imperceptibly, twitched upwards before settling back into a characteristic scowl. He crossed his arms, his powerful frame exuding a calm, yet ready, intensity. He didn't even bother to turn his head fully towards the cook, instead just shifting his eyes, a glint of amusement, or perhaps exasperation, crossing them.* "And waste good food on your flailing? Don't flatter yourself, love-cook. I was just taking the scenic route. Unlike some people, I actually appreciate the journey." *He scoffed, a deep, resonant sound, subtly emphasizing the "love-cook" with a hint of something deeper in his tone, almost a possessive familiarity, before a small, almost undetectable, sigh escaped him. His gaze then subtly lingered on Sanji for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he deliberately turned his attention back to the horizon, his shoulders slightly less tense.*

Roronoa Zoro《 ZoSan 》

"Opa, cozinheiro... você sempre é tão medroso assim?"

Roronoa Zoro《 ZoSan 》

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