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You stood in the middle of the bathroom, furiously brushing your teeth, fighting away tears. It’s not that bad, a dangerous voice in your head said. How many days has it been since you last did it? Give yourself a break, slip ups happen. “No,” you muttered to yourself, finally rinsing the toothbrush off and putting it up in the medicine cabinet. “I can’t think like that anymore.” You studied your face in the mirror, wincing away from the sight of the sharp angles of cheeks and jawbones, the darkness around your eyes, the pallid tone of your skin. Why can’t I stop this? you thought to yourself. Why did this start all over again? But ruminating on the why only threatened to overflow the tears welling in your eyes. You hastily left the bathroom and headed up to the aft deck, hoping some fresh air would clear your head.
You climbed up the ratlines a ways, tangling arms and legs in the ropes to anchor yourself, and drank in the view. It was late evening now; the sun hovered just over the horizon, casting streaks of red, orange, purple, and blue across the sky. You smiled at the radiant colors; it was picture perfect with the twinkle of the first few stars. You took a deep breath of the salty fresh sea air that played in your hair; time alone up here really did help clear your head.
“What is a lovely lady like yourself doing up there all by your lonesome?” a smooth voice cooed up to you from the deck.
Your heart seized and guilt over took you; the evening colors grew watery in your vision after Sanji’s voice called you back to earth from your reverie in the dusky light. You thought of the delicious dinner he had just cooked earlier that evening, a perfect slow cooked beef and vegetable stew, with garlic mashed potatoes to accompany it, and caramel pecan pie for dessert. What a waste it had been on you. You cleared your throat, desperate to get a hold of yourself. “Just getting some fresh air and enjoying the evening. It’s beautiful up here. I’ll be down in a little bit,” you reassured him.
“Don’t interrupt your relaxation, I’ll come up to join you,” he answered, crushing his cigarette on the deck and quickly ascending the ratlines up next to you. Anxiety filled your chest once again, a nest of bees buzzed where your heart should have been and they were migrating up to your mind as well; thought was becoming more difficult now. “What’s wrong, [f/n]? You look worried about something.”
You turned your head away, pretending to be searching for ever increasing numbers of stars, but in truth only wishing to hide your furrowed face from him. In just a few months on the Thousand Sunny, the crew had gotten to know you very well, as you had them, and as time wore on, some of the more observant members were able to notice the more subtle indicators of your anxiety; Robin, Nami, and, for better or worse, Sanji. Particularly right now, it was quite counterproductive that you had thought about him every night before you fell asleep since the first day you had met him, and that he was the first person on your mind when you woke up every morning. You simultaneously wanted to throw yourself sobbing into his arms and push him as far away as humanly possible, preferably somewhere on the other side of the world. You’d never say anything to him, he was far too much of a ladies’ man to actually entrust your heart to him; jealousy pricking your heart ever so lightly as you thought of him flirting with Nami and Robin. “I’m not thinking about anything important right now, Sanji. Just star gazing,” you answered quietly.
A thick silence surrounded you both; logic told you not to look at him, but morbid curiosity called your name. After a few awkward minutes, you turned to look at him hesitantly, and your cheeks flushed wildly at the intensity of his gaze studying you. “Wh-What are you looking at me like that for?” you stuttered.
“[F/n], I have to ask because I won’t let a lady suffer in silence, and we’ve all seen you struggling. You’re quieter now than you were when you first joined the crew, and you’re not well. You’re thinner, your skin is getting pale, and you look like you haven’t slept well in weeks. When was the last time Chopper took a look at you?”
You sighed, relieved somewhat. They think it’s something medical, you thought. That’s not so bad. “Um, last week, I think? I was feeling kind of nauseous and went to get some antacids from him,” you lied quickly.
“Liar,” came a quiet reply, not judgmental or accusatory, just a statement of fact. Your eyes widened and you turned to look at the chef fully now, his own blue eyes troubled but not disappointed, and searching yours intently for understanding. “I already asked Chopper when he checked you over last and he hasn’t since you first came on the ship. What’s really going on?”
Your heart thundered in your chest. I was set up?! you thought in panic. “So I haven’t seen Chopper lately after all, so what? I feel fine and it’s none of your business,” you answered defensively, not entirely clearing your voice of anxiety.
“You know I’ve been making you a separate meal at each dinner with added nutrients and proteins and it’s still not helping? [F/n], I’m really worried about you. Whatever is going on with you… it’s not something Chopper or I can cure, is it?” You had turned away from him again, the dusky horizon wavering in your vision as you bit down hard on your lip to keep the tears at bay. “If it’s not a disease, what is it? You can tell me, I’m not going to judge you for whatever it is.”
Oh, yes, you will. You, of everyone on this ship, most of all will, you thought cynically. The feeling in your heart was so awful; you loved him so much and yet you were doing the one thing that would hurt him more than anything else. After more meals than not, you couldn’t help it; panic took over and you headed straight to the bathroom and you purged it. And each and every time you cried, because although the anxiety would be gone for a short period, Sanji’s wonderful food had once again been wasted on you. You didn’t even have an explanation for it. You had been so hopeful once you had gotten on the ship that you could leave those old awful habits behind; and for many weeks, you had. The joy of new adventures and a family to share them with allowed you to forget your emotional distress for quite a while. But all too soon, you began having nightmares and flashbacks again from your unresolved past, and lack of sleep and stress reverted you to your old ways.
“[F/n], please answer me,” Sanji broke into your mental world again, and this time you felt his deft fingers interlacing with your own on the ratlines, causing your heart to leap into your throat. You swallowed hard, fighting to compose yourself.
“I’m just tired. You’re right, I haven’t been sleeping well lately. In fact, I think I’ll go to bed now,” you said quickly, thankful that the sun had set by now and only dim starlight illuminated the deck now, hiding the strained emotion in your face. You unwrapped yourself from the ratlines quickly and dropped to the deck but the chef was already two steps ahead of you.
“Pardon my French, but bullshit.” Your eyes widened and panicked. Dammit! Stop pestering me, just leave it alone! I don’t want to disappoint you! “You’re not one to get teary eyed just because you’re tired,” he said more gently, taking your hand in his again, and lifting your chin to look him in the eye with the other. “You’ve been pushing us all slowly away from you for a while now, and I won’t let you do it anymore. You can’t keep hiding whatever it is, it’s killing you. Let us help you,” he said, pain in his eyes. “Let me help you,” he insisted more quietly, taking a step closer to you. You tried to take a step back away from him, but his hand in yours slid around your waist instead, and the hand on your cheek wrapped around the back of your neck. “No, don’t run away from me now,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath on your skin tickling and sending shivers down your spine. You were no longer just worried that he would discover your purging, but also how much you cared about him now as well. This is bad, you need to get out of here, and fast.
“S-Sanji, I don’t feel so good. I think I really should go to bed,” you mumbled into his shoulder, hoping that would get across the message that you really didn’t want to talk about what was going on, but instead he only held you tighter. “Sanji, honestly, I just don’t feel well right now and I need to get some sleep,” you said more insistently.
He pulled his head back and rested his forehead against yours; your own face heated up and your heart thundered wildly in your chest. He was so close; you could smell the tobacco from his constant smoking, the spices he used in his kitchen, and an aroma that was wholly unique and simply… Sanji. His chiseled features were accented gorgeously in the starlight; soft rays casting deep shadows across his cheekbones, jaw, and brow bones. His eyes were shadowed until they fluttered open and the blue sparkled with frustration, concern, and a deeper emotion you couldn’t identify into your own [e/c] eyes. “You’re going to try and stick with that flimsy story? Children come up with better lies than that. I’d be insulted if I wasn’t so worried about you right now,” he said, the deep emotion you saw in his eyes resounding in his voice as well.
Give him something, you thought. Tell him one thing so you don’t have to tell him another. What’s worse, telling him you love him or telling him that you waste his food every single day? “Sanji…” you started, face flushing red that you were going to put your heart out there like this to protect your darker secrets. “I… it’s just…” Goddammit, why does he have to be so close to me? I can’t think like this! Seeing that words were no help to you at this point, you took a deep breath, then pressed your lips against his abruptly. You gripped his shoulders to steady your shaking hands as you held your breath, each second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to respond. To your pleasant surprise, he returned the kiss, licking your lips and finding your tongue, tasting every inch of your mouth. His arms wrapped around you firmly; your blood pulsed in your head and your heart felt like it was ready to burst through your chest, every muscle in your body weakened. His goatee tickled your chin, and small smirk twitched at the corner of your mouth. And yet, despite how many different ways you had imagined your first kiss with Sanji, your joy was tainted by the singular thought racing circles in your mind: Is it working? Will you stop asking me what’s bothering me now?
After a long minute, he pulled back away from you, looking at you with soft eyes and a suave grin on his face. You were breathing heavily and you knew your face was flushed fire engine red; he leaned into you again, lips against your ear to whisper, “I’m overjoyed to know that you feel the same way about me that I do about you, but that’s not what’s bothering you, is it? I still see pain in your eyes.”
You stomach turned in knots; joy, panic, frustration, disappointment, and that ever present shame destroying you from the inside out. You shook in his arms; you bit your lip so hard to try and keep the tears back that you drew blood, but to no avail. Salty drops trickled from your eyes and dampened the collar of his shirt, and you finally let the sobs out. There was no point in holding back now; he could already feel your tears on his neck. He held you for a long time on the aft deck like that, letting you spend your pain until you calmed down somewhat. He then sat down on the deck, pulling you into his lap as he lounged against the railing, running his hand through your hair and resting your head on his shoulder. “Share your pain with me. I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this, not knowing what’s eating at you so much,” he said softly; your cheek nestled into his neck could feel the vibrations of his rich, deep, voice. You closed your eyes; feeling the strength of his arms holding you close, the warmth of his body next to yours, and the slow movement of his chest with each deep breath all made you want to spill your heart out to him. But once again, at the same time your shame and anxiety made you want to push him away forever. You found his choice of words ironic, given your biggest worry.
“What’s eating me, huh,” you muttered, smirking cynically. “I can’t tell you, Sanji. Not you. Of everyone on the crew, you’re the last person I’d want to talk to about it,” you continued, barely audible.
He sighed. “Well, it seems to me that even though you don’t want to tell me at all, you’d be even less likely to tell anyone else. At least I got you to admit that something’s wrong,” he said, blue eyes twinkling down at you. You smiled, resting a hand on his chest and slipping your hand underneath the collar of his shirt to run a finger over his exposed collarbone, which was all too quickly stopped by one of his own. “Oh, no, you don’t. No distracting me when I’m actually getting somewhere,” he said with a small grin.
You smiled, despite his idiotic behavior sometimes, you knew that he was actually pretty sharp. “What things do you value most on this ship?” you asked quietly, your head still resting on his shoulder, eyes staring off into the distance.
He looked at you quizzically, but answered. “Friends, above all else. Dreams. Respecting the ladies. And the importance of a good meal, of course. Why ask that question now?”
“Because one of those answers is why I’m so afraid to tell you. I don’t want to disappoint you,” you mumbled, anxiety tearing your heart up as you tried to read just how upset he would be with you when he found out. Wait, not when, if. You had most certainly not decided whether you would tell him about your issues with eating, and it dawned on you that you didn’t really even realize when you allowed it to become an option. However, if you kept giving him bread crumb clues like this, you wouldn’t have that choice to tell him or not anymore. He’d figure it out on his own; but secretly, maybe you were hoping for that so you wouldn’t have to actually say it to him.
“You’re loyal; you put your life on the line just as much as the rest of us. You’re chasing your dream with all of us. And you don’t have to worry about respecting the ladies, you are one of my lovely ladies. So it has something to do with food?” he asked, reasoning through it. You remained silent; he was piecing the mystery together far more quickly than you had anticipated, and doubt filled your mind now. Maybe I don’t want him to figure this out now after all! Is it too late? “You’ve lost tons of weight. You look ill. And something about it has to do with food, although I know it’s not because you’ve been eating poorly. I’ve put the pieces together, [f/n], but I want you to say it out loud. You need to admit it, as much as I need to hear that it’s actually true,” he said, the disappointment and gravity in his voice tangible. At first you felt horribly ashamed, tears filling your eyes; but despite how much it must have been hurting him, he still held you in his lap; held you tightly, if possible, maybe even more tightly than before.
You cringed and hesitated. Why? Why do you want to hear it from my own lips? Why can’t it just be enough to figure out what I’ve led you to? You swallowed hard, then took a deep breath. “I eat every meal you make for me, and it’s delicious. In fact, it’s a little piece of heaven,” you began with a shaky voice that quickly lowered to a whisper. “But after I’m done eating, I get such terrible anxiety. I panic. I have to get rid of it, I can’t think of anything else…,” it was no longer just your voice shaking, but your whole body, and the tears poured down your face, “…so I do the only thing I can think of. I purge it,” you barely choked out at the end, not wanting to hear the words leave your lips but knowing that Sanji deserved to hear the truth.
Sanji hugged you strongly. “I’m not disappointed in you, you know that, right?” he said softly, emotion lacing his own voice. “I’m disappointed that there’s something strong enough in this world to keep you from fully appreciating the food I make for you. Of everyone on this ship, I’m glad it’s me that you told. There’s no one else on this ship who will fight harder to make sure you can enjoy my food,” he said as you cried, his words only worsening your tears. You hadn’t anticipated such understanding, such care and concern. You had been so afraid you would hurt him, but he had defined an important distinction that you, in all your worry and self-loathing, had forgotten about. He had separated you from your anxiety. He was disappointed that something like this crushing anxiety was causing you so much pain and taking away your choices, not in who you were yourself. You clutched at his shirt, sobbing harder than ever.
“Th-thank you, Sanji,” you barely choked out through your tears, unsure if he had even been able to understand you, but you felt him nod his head in acceptance. As your tears began to slow and you began to calm down once again, a series of realizations entered your mind. Strange as it was, the idea of him finding out about your eating disorder had felt like an anvil weighing your mind down, but now your shoulders felt light. You had been so preoccupied about being hurt by his flirtations that you were terrified for him to find out that you loved him, but now your heart felt airy with his returned affection. Your stomach was full of butterflies, but these were excited for once, not anxious.
Sensing your growing peacefulness, he ventured a quiet question. “What can I do to help?"
You smiled. You had fought this battle before, this wasn’t your first time trying to become well again. Even as a child, you had bizarre habits with food; nothing could touch, if a pea got into your mashed potatoes, you would have a complete, and usually violent, meltdown. Then you lost your family; and slowly different foods became off limits, and as you lost more and more control of everyday activities, you tried to take more control back in whatever ways you could. Anxiety would arise about what pain might come next, and, feeling it in your stomach most, you’d purge it. You had been taken in at many shelters and orphanages over the years, but you either ran away from them when they pushed too hard or they would abandon you as a lost cause. It was a long road towards accepting what was wrong with you, and you had acquired a hap-hazard set of skills that had helped you stay on track for brief periods. Unfortunately, none of them were strong enough to help you handle new obstacles that came your way. But this time I have someone who truly cares about me and will help me. Maybe… this time…
“Believe it or not, just being able to admit it helps a ton,” you answered quietly. “I was so afraid I’d hurt you if you found out. And, of everyone on the ship, I don’t want to disappoint you…” you stopped, your vision becoming watery again. “So thank you, for not being disgusted by me,” you added, swallowing and composing yourself again.
“Disgusted…?” Sanji started. “[F/n], even thin and sickly like this, you’re still a beautiful angel. But I do miss your skin and your hair shining, and your curves.” A blush crept onto your cheeks; it had been easily a few months since you had any curves, had he been watching you for that long? “And all these bones in your face don’t suit you,” he continued softly, a gentle thumb tracing your cheek and running along your jawline, deepening your blush and stirring the butterflies up in your stomach again. “I’m glad you feel better getting this off your mind, but I know that’s only the first step. What else can I do?”
“When doctors have tried to help me before, the first thing they always do is have someone keep an eye on me after I eat. And lots of relaxation techniques. Lots. Ungodly amounts of relaxation techniques. Deep breathing, distraction, meditation. But those only help so much. I’ve never really found one that works as well as the bad habit I have,” you said.
“There’s an easy way for me to keep an eye on you and keep you distracted after each meal,” he said with a glint in his eye. Oh dear God, what does he have in mind?! you thought, less alarmed and more intrigued by what his creative and naughty mind was dreaming up. “You’ll be my dishwasher after each and every meal from now on until you’ve got this under control.”
You giggled, you couldn’t help it; for once, it had been someone else’s mind that had instantly gone to the gutter rather than his. “What?” he asked innocently.
“Nothing, it’s just… when you said you had a way to keep me distracted after each meal, I thought…” you didn’t finish the sentence, the worsening blush on your face and your devious grin said enough.
He returned your playful smile with one of his own, a different sparkle in his eye now. “I’m certainly not opposed to anything along those lines either,” he whispered, tilting your head up and pulling you in for another kiss. You slid your arms around his neck this time, leaning into him and slipping your tongue between his lips. His arms wrapped around your frail frame once again, pulling you flush against him, tangling his tongue with yours as one of your hands ran through his hair. Suddenly, your stomach rumbled; in essence, although you had eaten dinner, your body hadn’t taken anything in since lunch. You broke the kiss; your face flushed with embarrassment now, and you tried to lower your head, but his hand lifted your face. “It seems you need a snack before anything else,” he said with a simple smile. Before you could protest, he had given you a hand to stand up and was leading you across the deck to the galley. Anxiety stirred in your stomach once again; no, not again. I’m with someone who accepts this for what it is, even if he doesn’t completely understand.
“Do you feel like anything in particular?” he asked as he unlocked the fridge, but you didn’t reply, too lost in your own anxieties to hear him. He turned back towards you when you didn’t respond, and upon seeing the distress on your face walked back over to you. You were still dazed when you felt his lips on yours once again; the way he tasted, how smooth his lips were, his gentle hand on your face, all becoming a few new items on the short list of things that could break through your anxiety and bring you back to reality. “You’ve got nothing to fear in my kitchen. Take a look in the fridge and see if there’s something you’d like.” You nodded, a weak smile on your face as you approached the fridge.
Truthfully, your first thoughts were for something bulky with few calories; celery or carrot sticks, maybe some broccoli with balsamic vinegar to dip it in. Stop, you told yourself, you need more calories than the vegetables will give you. Let Sanji pack the vitamins and minerals into your meals. Here you can add the extra calories you need to put on. Apparently Sanji had been concerned about your fixation on the vegetables as well; you could feel pensive eyes on you as you forced your eyes away from the crispers to the middle shelf with leftover desserts on it. ‘Leftover’ was really a misnomer; they were the desserts that Luffy had discovered and eaten half of before they even had a chance to see the dining table. A strawberry cheesecake caught your eye; there was just enough left for two to share.
“Split the rest of the cheesecake with me?” you asked hopefully, your [e/c] eyes looked up into his eager blues ones tentatively.
“Of course, my dear,” he answered with a broad smile, obviously pleased that you had chosen a dessert, and even more pleased that you wanted to share it with him. “Let me whip up a quick puree to dress it with,” he said. You sat and waited at the counter for the few minutes it took him to blend it together and plate the dessert; and were pleasantly surprised to find that just watching him work was helping to calm you a bit as well. “There we are,” he said triumphantly, turning to you with two slices of cheesecake, then coming around to sit next to you at the counter.
The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and it was one of the most enjoyable meals you had eaten in a very long time. Sanji kept his eyes off of you while you ate; sensing that being too overprotective would only worsen your anxiety rather than help it. You had to remind yourself to eat slowly, let your body enjoy and digest the treat slowly, to keep the anxiety at bay for as long as possible. Sanji matched you bite for bite, not wanting to rush you. You placed the last bite in your mouth, savoring it for as long as you could as it melted in your mouth with closed eyes. You set your fork down, and he took your hand in his once again. “There’s a few dishes to clean up from the puree, come help me?”
You nodded enthusiastically, and the two of you washed and dried in the continued comfortable silence. “Sanji,” you began to ask. “Did you make the puree just so that we’d have something to wash afterwards?”
“Yes and no. The cheesecake needed something a little extra,” he said smiling, his blue eyes piercing yours. He was trying so hard to help you; it was so touching. The butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach from his smoldering smile mixed themselves up with your familiar anxiety, however, and you found yourself craving a way to get rid of it.
“Your smile’s disappearing,” he commented quietly. “Just worry about drying those dishes. Try not to think of anything else.” You nodded, and the two of you continued to work. All too quickly, the dishes were washed, dried, and stored, and you were nearing the edge of a full blown panic attack.
Goddammit, I know the body can physiologically only support so much anxiety, when will this break?! you thought frantically. You tried taking a few deep breaths, but you couldn’t take in enough air; thinking about breathing only made you feel like you were suffocating. You stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen with your arms wrapped around yourself, positive that if you moved at all, you’d bolt straight for any place that would let you purge in peace. Sanji was studying you worriedly. “What are some of those relaxation techniques they’ve taught you that you say never work?”
“S-Sanji, th-those aren’t going to help me at all right now,” you stuttered, realizing how tense your shoulders and back were from fighting the urge to flee. Your brain started to run away from logic now, forgetting your goals. “I think I just need some time alone to try and calm down.”
“Oh, no,” he said, a stern tone edging his voice now. “You told me what’s been going on, you’ve asked for my help, and you’re going to get it,” he decided, a determined light in his eyes that stirred your heart, and not your stomach for once. “I know you like to read, music, star gazing. Or if you just want to spend some time alone doing nothing, then do it with me, too. I’m not leaving you until you’ve calmed down.”
You looked at the clock. 10:00, you saw before the time registered in your brain. 10:00?! I ate cheesecake at 10:00 at night?! What the hell was I thinking? You had entered panic mode now; you took a step away from him, then turned and tried to bolt for the door. You reached the handle and had pulled it a few inches open before his foot crashed into it and his arms wrapped around you, holding you back. You tried to push yourself out of his grip, but he only tightened it. Tears poured from your eyes; the rational part of your brain that was thankful for his actions had been completely overpowered by panic. You gasped for breath; between the panic attack itself and fighting against Sanji’s arms you truly felt like you couldn’t breathe. You sobbed out loud and collapsed to the ground and he collapsed along with you.
"[F/n], listen to me. Don’t make me do this,” he spoke into your ear, his voice strained. “I know you’re in there underneath all this fear, I want to help you. Just stay with me. You don’t have to do a thing right now. You don’t have to try to use any stupid relaxation technique, you don’t have to go anywhere. Just stay here with me,” he pleaded. You continued to fight against him, but found yourself turned in his arms; no longer was his chest against your back, but your shoulder was pressed into his now. One of his hands began to run through your hair while the other held you firmly in place, and it was then that you noticed the tears streaming down his face. The sight of his face so broken struck a chord in you, and you stopped fighting. You still felt like you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think straight, and you were still sobbing; but you didn’t want to flee anymore, in fact, Sanji’s arms felt like the safest place in the world now. You reached one hand up and hesitantly rested it on his chest, letting the other wrap around his waist. The hand on his chest tightened and gripped his shirt in a tight fist, and your arm around his waist pulled him closer and tighter with each passing minute. Instead of pushing him away, you now were clinging to him for dear life.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. The feeling of those fingers, the smooth sensations you felt across your head as he touched you were beginning to ground you. It was so soothing, so gentle; you found that you could focus on that. There was nothing else in the world that you had ever been able to concentrate on when you were panicked, but now Sanji’s delicate fingers were drawing your attention and calming you more than anything you had ever discovered before. You felt your tears begin to slow, and your breathing began to return to normal. You didn’t feel as if you were suffocating any longer. “How are you doing?” he asked guardedly, still unwilling to loosen his grip on you.
You smiled, just a little bit. “Better. Keep playing with my hair like that,” you answered quietly, earning a small smile from him. There you two sat for what felt like forever, and you never would have left that spot on the galley floor except for when the clock chimed.
“It’s eleven. We’ve got a pretty full day tomorrow, Nami said earlier that we’d probably arrive at the next island tomorrow. But I’ve got a dilemma,” he said, finally allowing you to sit up and look him in the face. “You’re calmer now, but do you know if that’ll be it for tonight?” He paused, studying your eyes with doubt filling his own. “I don’t want to leave you alone just yet. Especially not with how strong your panic gets. So I don’t know what to do next when we both need to get some sleep,” he said, then hesitated before mumbling his final thought. “I know what I want to ask but it’s not appropriate at all, and you’ll just think… well, something like you were thinking before.”
You giggled, easily catching his drift. “You want me to spend the night with you? Or you want to spend the night with me, is that it?” His face flushed, eyes widened with just a little bit of guilt. Truthfully, you weren’t disappointed at all that he had suggested it; in fact, the idea of falling asleep next to him warmed you in more places than just your heart. “I can go with that. But you behave yourself,” you answered mischievously.
His eyes lit up, relieved that not only weren’t you offended by his suggestion, but even seemed pleased by it. “Only if you promise you won’t,” he said with a suggestive voice, pulling your chin towards him again for another passionate kiss.