( she says, defensively. not that she knows anything about it. still, it's hard to doubt when looking at the thing — an unsightly pile of too much frosting and not enough patience, caving in, slanting sideways. she hates it, and wishes it was better. she hates herself too, for much the same reasons.
hesitating, bee eventually settles on the bench, moving with an effort to seem unbothered, to tug the cake in a tactical position away from sanji like he might forget about it if it isn't immediately next to him. most bets are off when he offers his cigarette though, bee's many eyes wide and imploring as if she's been given some kind of treasure. she accepts it, initially holding the stem of it with the pointer fingers and thumbs of both her hands, before holding it how she's seen sanji do it, between two fingers. bee might've scented the smoke off the stable hand workers in withywoods before, but her core memories of cigarettes are all from sanji — this, then, is some kind of generous sharing, bee thinks. like opening a door and letting her in.
she tries to follow instructions, but very predictably fails at it, almost immediately erupting in a coughing fit. the hand with the cigarette juts out towards sanji to take back, while she coughs into the elbow of her opposite arm, tongue licking at the cloth of her shirtsleeve to get rid of the taste. )
Bleh! You do that for fun?
( she actually has no idea why he does it, or what would ever lead anyone to do something so awful. it's actually — kind of funny, how absolutely terrible it is, and eventually her coughs turn into the turkey gobble that is synonyms with bee's happy laughter. )
Do I look like you?
( a silly question, which bee only realizes after the fact, because bee doesn't look like anyone. not her father or her mother, not other little girls, not even other humans, anymore. still, the question comes out with a desperate twinge of hopefulness she doesn't intend to be there — like being comparable to sanji might be the the single greatest thing anyone could give her. even if she is a little mad he didn't like her cake. )
no subject
( she says, defensively. not that she knows anything about it. still, it's hard to doubt when looking at the thing — an unsightly pile of too much frosting and not enough patience, caving in, slanting sideways. she hates it, and wishes it was better. she hates herself too, for much the same reasons.
hesitating, bee eventually settles on the bench, moving with an effort to seem unbothered, to tug the cake in a tactical position away from sanji like he might forget about it if it isn't immediately next to him. most bets are off when he offers his cigarette though, bee's many eyes wide and imploring as if she's been given some kind of treasure. she accepts it, initially holding the stem of it with the pointer fingers and thumbs of both her hands, before holding it how she's seen sanji do it, between two fingers. bee might've scented the smoke off the stable hand workers in withywoods before, but her core memories of cigarettes are all from sanji — this, then, is some kind of generous sharing, bee thinks. like opening a door and letting her in.
she tries to follow instructions, but very predictably fails at it, almost immediately erupting in a coughing fit. the hand with the cigarette juts out towards sanji to take back, while she coughs into the elbow of her opposite arm, tongue licking at the cloth of her shirtsleeve to get rid of the taste. )
Bleh! You do that for fun?
( she actually has no idea why he does it, or what would ever lead anyone to do something so awful. it's actually — kind of funny, how absolutely terrible it is, and eventually her coughs turn into the turkey gobble that is synonyms with bee's happy laughter. )
Do I look like you?
( a silly question, which bee only realizes after the fact, because bee doesn't look like anyone. not her father or her mother, not other little girls, not even other humans, anymore. still, the question comes out with a desperate twinge of hopefulness she doesn't intend to be there — like being comparable to sanji might be the the single greatest thing anyone could give her. even if she is a little mad he didn't like her cake. )