"Oi marimo, hand me my cigarettes." Sanji slurred, having woken up in the middle of the night.

A sliver of moonlight passed through the porthole, and the cook was suddenly struck with the feeling that something was wrong.

"Oi come on, get up." The blond almost whined, even if it was more for the sake of annoying the swordsman than his nicotine craving. He would never admit it but angry Zoro can easily be one of the sexiest things.

"Bast-" The cook's hand froze mid-air, as he realized what was wrong. Or it's lack thereof.

The baka-marimo wasn't snoring. Not his little kitten-ish snores or his annoying bull-ish snores. The loud snores of his captain seemed even louder compared to the complete silence enveloping his lover.

"O-oi fucker." His words caught in his throat as his hands clutched Zoro, feeling cold with dread. His heart started hammering in his throat like it needed as much fucking air as he did at that moment. The idiot couldn't be dead. No way.

Bile rose up his throat and threatened to escape as his hands trembled like it hadn't had for years. The idiot would never break his promise. He would never.

"Zoro, wake up. " His voice broke but he didn't really care, not when he was worried about unmoving chests and inexistent heart beats. The blond ignored the pleading tone in his voice because if there ever was a time to beg it would have been now. Now when the person he belonged to was dying. Now that the person he fucking treasured above anything else was all but gone. The cook slumped over the swordsman, desperately trying to listen for a heart beat because the freaking bastard just couldn't die.

No. No. No.

"What the fuck, you made a promise you bastard, how dare you die?" He pounded the marimo's chest hoping desperately for it to start moving, for the marimo to say something. Anything.

The cook slapped him, hard, because it was a lot easier to be angry than to face this raw pain gripping his insides. It felt like a cold hand on his gut, leaving him cold and empty, like he was caving in on himself and he can't breathe anything else but pain.

Those small kittenish snoring, those annoying bull grunts, he knew he would give up anything just to hear that right now. He closed his eyes tightly, fighting the tears that he could feel were coming.

He'll give anything. Everything. His feet, his remaining eye, his hands. His life. Just please. He wanted to see those eyes open, to see life reflected in those deep green orbs.

"Please... at least ... let me die with you."

The cook's voice was shaky and desperate, and he let out a wordless scream until he could feel his throat bleeding. His chest felt so full like it will explode any fucking moment and he felt like he was drowning, like someone had tried to reach into his throat to rip his heart out. And succeeded.

"Zoro.." He did not even think of his pride, or the ladies, as tears started flowing from his face. All he could think of was his warmth, his stubbornness and machismo, the tinkle of his earrings, his smile, and his beautiful dark green eyes that burn with determination and confidence. He wondered vaguely if this is what they meant when they said your life will flash before you when you're about to die.

"This is stupid." Zoro growled, pushing the blond away. He tried to ignore the clench in his heart when he saw Sanji's tear streaked face.

"What? Afraid you can't top that?" The smug challenge sounded wrong in Sanji's still wet face. The cook did not miss his marimo's reaction and he felt his heart swell just a bit.

He slapped the green haired bastard soundly on his thigh, before lying down himself and imitating Zoro's earlier posture. "Come on it's your turn," He said with a hiss before closing his eyes.

"..."

"Oi Sanji, I'm hungry."

"..."

"Oi cook..."

"..."

"O-oi ero-cook."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Fuck this, I'll just raid the kitchen."

"FUCK YOU BASTARD!"