~This one is a more serious one, but it needed to be typed. It's not really named after a song, but I listened to Vesper by David Arnold if anybody was wondering. Thinking about actually turning this into a legit fanfic instead of just a oneshot. Don't own One Piece.~
The water dripping down Sable's body was cold and biting to her bare skin, but she didn't care. She sat, dripping wet, and stared at nothing in particular, breath coming to her in short gasps as she cried. She drew her knees closer to her chest, the small bit of warmth from this action seeming to inflame her feelings again.
She wanted to be numb.
She had helped him kill today. The other pirates - the living breathing humans - had attacked her small house before going on to the village. And she'd defended it the best she could with just her and him. But she had killed. She had emerged victorious and covered in blood.
Blood was supposed to be the life force of human beings. It flowed through systems and pumped through valves and arteries.
Their bodies wouldn't pump anything anymore.
She didn't notice a green head pop around the door, nor notice how battered Zoro was. He was also covered in blood, most of it his own. He'd protected her; put his life on the line to keep her safe. Now, he opened the shower door, fully clothed, and sat down next to her. He gave her a glance, then stared out the glass door. "How long have you been in here?" He asked softly.
She shook her head, refusing to speak. He was warm, though. She suddenly craved to hold onto him. She took his arm, burying her face in his arm, body heaving with her fight for air. "I-it's like...th-there's blood...on my hands...and it...it won't go away..."
Zoro stared at her, watching her hair soak his shirt and blinking against the water that splashed into his eyes from the shower. Being directly out of the shower's reach, he still remained mostly warm and un-washed. "Let me see." He took her hands, and carefully inspected them, eyes going over every pale slender digit with care. There was no blood, just bare skin. Suddenly, he placed them next to his swollen, bloody lips and closed his mouth over each one, eyes closed as he tenderly bestowed warmth into each one.
Sable stared at this, watching him move from one finger to the other. After he was done, she wordlessly held up the other, examining the wounds he had sustained during battle. He'd been willing to give up his life for her, and here he was now, cleaning up afterwards. His tongue swirled around the pad of her pinky as he slowly let it go. He turned towards her, hand still in his. "Is that better?"
Despite his attentive care, the blood from his lip had gotten on her clean fingers, but she ignored it. She wasn't looking at her fingers. She nodded again. "You're hurt." She said softly. "Let me clean you up." She took a rag from an alcove above her head and turned on the warm water, her skin tingling in relief at the temperature change. She didn't care that she was naked in a shower with a strange man. She didn't care that she probably looked awful, make up smeared from water and tears. She gently started to towel off the cut above his eye, gently scrubbing away the blood that had encrusted in his eyebrow and down his eyelid. One eye stared at her face as she worked, and she pointedly looked anywhere but into it. Finished with his eye, she gently tilted his chin, working over the cut on his lip. Fresh blood welled up and she used her fingers to quell it, finally looking into his eyes.
His lips parted ever so slightly and the warmth of his breath on her skin sent an electricity racing through her system. She looked away and said softly. "Come sit where the shower is."
He wordlessly pulled at his clothes, raising an eyebrow.
She looked at the drain as she nodded. Yes. It was alright for him to be undressed as well. She tried to look anywhere but his body as he stripped and laid them in a pile in the corner of the shower. He sat down directly under the shower, back against the wall where she had been. His eyes half lidded against the water's spray, he watched her attend to every cut - every spot of offending blood - on his body. She hesitated as she reached his hips, eyes inevitably straying to his bare privates.
He was well endowed, to be sure, and already half aroused. Most likely by the sight of her and her attentive and gentle touch. She ignored it, however, choosing to continue her mission to clean him up. She turned her back to him, settling between his legs as she wiped away fresh blood from a nasty cut on his leg. She tossed the rag, pulling her legs to her chest again. "I'm so sorry..." She whispered. "You didn't have to do all this for me."
Warm arms wrapped around her and she felt lips press against the back of her head; warm lips against the chill that had settled in her body. He didn't answer, instead, turning her head and leaning forward to gently brush his lips over hers. She leaned back against him,feeling every inch of his muscular, well toned body on her back. Warmth started to return to her, starting from there and stretching out to every bit of her. She twisted her hands, unsure what to do until he grabbed one of them, breaking away to kiss every one of her fingers again.
Zoro couldn't tell Sable how much she confused him. He was never a vernacular individual, and wasn't about to start now. He had no words for the way he felt every time she showed any bit of caring for him. There was nothing he could say about how overwhelming it was to watch her clean him up, though she was hurting so bad on the inside. So instead, he made up his mind to show her. Arms wrapped around her, he held her to him as his mouth caressed hers. He had soft firm kisses, trying to make her see how much he cared for her right now.
She responded like a flower to sun's first rays. She relaxed, opening up to him and allowing his hands to wander her wet skin.
He could feel how soft she was, her untarnished skin only marred by the scars on her abdomen; proof of her condition. She was dying, her insides quitting on her slowly. And no amount of surgery could correct it. It made him ache to feel the scar tissue there and realize that her only chance was a dream that no one knew existed or not. A devil fruit somewhere on the grand line. He traced his fingers back up to her breasts and cupped them in his hands.
She responded by turning around so she was facing him, she stared into his dark eyes and kissed him again, this time more heatedly.
Encouraged, he lifted her up so she straddled him, allowing her to wrap her legs around his torso. His member, now fully aroused, nudged at her entrance, yet he did nothing about it. There would be enough time for that. He wanted to enjoy her - let her know how much he cared and wanted to be there for her.
Sable sighed into his mouth, letting his tongue dance with hers as he heated her skin with his touch. She wanted him to warm her completely; to chase away the cold that had inhabited her very soul for too long. She turned her head to the side, eyes closed as he wandered with his lips down her shoulder. He kept up the trail down her arm and finally to her fingers again. They were his favorite, these fingers that did so many things no other person would do. He kissed her again and murmured, "Let's get you all dried off. You'll get sick in here."
She did as he asked, standing and turning off the shower. She turned to see him handing her a towel and she took in his sheer masculinity. He looked better all cleaned up, but still beaten. "I've never had...anybody do anything like this for me before..." She said softly, wrapping the towel around herself."There needs to be more people like you in this world."
He shook his head, leading her into her bedroom. The bed was messed up and unmade, the fan circling above them and creating moving shadows in the evening sunlight that filtered through the broken blinds. "No. There needs to be more people like you." He kissed her again, tenderly pushing her back towards the bed.
She laid down on it, exposed for him as the towel was discarded over the side of the bed. It wouldn't be of any use now. Her skin had either absorbed the moisture or it had dried because of the undeniable heat radiating from her now. He made her warm. He made everything alright.
He kissed her again, then left her kiss-bruised lips for her abdomen.
She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. She had forgotten about the scars - the ugly scars that made her lay awake in bed with night with worry; worry that no one would love her because of how doomed she was.
He traced each one lightly with a finger before kissing each and every one, tenderly.
Sable started to cry, tears streaming down her face. She covered her face in her hands and shook her head when he inquired what was wrong. "Wh-why are you so nice to me...?" She sobbed, unable to control herself. No one had ever been loved more tenderly then her at this moment in time.
Zoro pried her fingers away from her face, kissing her forehead. "Because it's your turn." He said simply. He went back to his ritual, fingers stroking between her legs. She was already ready for him. The shower had fulfilled her to an extent that their joining would be okay. Nevertheless, he kept it up, watching her face grow flushed and intent on the pleasure that was building up inside of her. He was growing impatient, however, as was inevitable. His own need was bordering unbearable and he bit his tongue, resisting the urge to take some of the pressure off by stroking himself. He finally kneeled over top of her, kissing her again as she looked back up at him with sex-hazed gray eyes. "I need you." He said simply, kissing her again.
She nodded her consent and watched as he placed himself inside. There was one gradual push and he was buried up to the hilt. Sable gasped for air, thoughts flying out the window. He was amazing. He was the final key to making her warm all the way. All the coldness and lonliness inside flew away as he began drumming into her, her hands - those kind fingers, reaching up and grabbing onto his back muscles. She dug her nails in, letting them bite his flesh as she bent her knees, allowing him a better angle inside of her.
He panted, feeling a sensory overload imminent. Her dirty blonde hair splaid out around her head, flushed soft skin under his touch, and those eyes - the same eyes he dreamed about every night, looking up at him with neediness. She wanted him to be there; to fill her completely body and soul. And he did. He filled her until release was right around the corner, but he pulled out and stroked the both of them, realizing that finishing inside her was not the best idea.
She twitched under his fingers until with a long drawn out moan, she careened over the edge and couldn't tell what was real and what was fantasy anymore. She pleaded for him to stop touching her most sensitive place, yet he spun out her orgasm as his was already ended, watching with satisfaction as she lay in a twitching, exhausted heap. She panted, face buried in the cool pillow beside her head as she drew her thighs together, trying to stop the almost unbearable flashes of pure exhilaration. She blinked as she felt him lay over top of her with a sigh, head settling on her stomach. She lifted her head wearily and smiled as he stared back at her, taking a hand and running it through his green hair. He'd made her warm - made her whole again. Suddenly, she didn't care that she was going to die. She didn't care what her future was or how she was going to get by the next day. All there was to her right then was him.
And the warmth.