Well, I liked the other one at least.
Mar. 15th, 2006 04:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianAs the last ZoSan got rejected for being pr0nny and pr0nlike, here's one that not only is clean, but was actually on the keyword I was supposed to be using anyway.
Title: Haunted
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG like whoa.
Summary: Zoro is a stupid boy. It's a good thing he's got someone to take care of him, even if she has to try a little harder than most.
Sanji had never put much stock in ghosts. There were enough living people out there trying to kill you or annoy you without having to worry about the dead ones.
So when he started seeing the girl, he concluded that he’d gone mad. Flickers of dark hair out of the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a sad face in the polished surface of one of his kitchen knives, thinking there was someone else in the room and finding no one there when he turned around—all signs that he’d been at sea too long.
He didn’t like being alone anymore—the weirdness was worst when he was by himself. So he found himself seeking company more and more often. He discovered almost by accident that being with the swordsman was the most like being by himself, provided that they weren’t fighting. When the marimo-head was quiet, his presence actually bordered on soothing.
Sanji knew one thing for certain—strange little dark-haired girls didn’t show up on reflective metal surfaces when the swordsman was near. Ever.
When Zoro finally called Sanji on the fact that he was trailing around after him like a frightened child, he blurted out that he went crazy whenever Zoro wasn’t around.
After Zoro slammed him into the wall and kissed him so fiercely he didn’t even have a chance to kick, he concluded that maybe he should have worded that a bit differently.
Title: Haunted
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG like whoa.
Summary: Zoro is a stupid boy. It's a good thing he's got someone to take care of him, even if she has to try a little harder than most.
Sanji had never put much stock in ghosts. There were enough living people out there trying to kill you or annoy you without having to worry about the dead ones.
So when he started seeing the girl, he concluded that he’d gone mad. Flickers of dark hair out of the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a sad face in the polished surface of one of his kitchen knives, thinking there was someone else in the room and finding no one there when he turned around—all signs that he’d been at sea too long.
He didn’t like being alone anymore—the weirdness was worst when he was by himself. So he found himself seeking company more and more often. He discovered almost by accident that being with the swordsman was the most like being by himself, provided that they weren’t fighting. When the marimo-head was quiet, his presence actually bordered on soothing.
Sanji knew one thing for certain—strange little dark-haired girls didn’t show up on reflective metal surfaces when the swordsman was near. Ever.
When Zoro finally called Sanji on the fact that he was trailing around after him like a frightened child, he blurted out that he went crazy whenever Zoro wasn’t around.
After Zoro slammed him into the wall and kissed him so fiercely he didn’t even have a chance to kick, he concluded that maybe he should have worded that a bit differently.
