( adjusting to life at the mansion is β really hit or miss, depending on the day. the regularity of everything is fucking weird: breakfast, fucking around, lunch, fucking around, dinner, fucking around, then a seemingly agreed upon bedtime. zoro's used to staying up at odd hours when it's his turn to keep watch from the crow's nest, or waking up at the ass crack of dawn to hunt prey to bring back to the cabin so they don't starve. some days, he doesn't want to eat breakfast at 9 am on the dot. some days he doesn't want to see some shithead cook in the dining room trying to charm a maid or edge his way into the kitchen to prepare something special for someone special.
it's part why he spends a lot of nights in nami's room, honestly β and occasionally koby's, too, when zoro's feeling particularly pathetic and isn't in the mood to talk about his feelings because at least koby will listen when zoro tells him to shut the fuck up about it. it pisses him off to lay in his own offensively large bed at night thinking about the fact that there are only two walls and a bathroom separating him from some asshole that loves him but pretends that he doesn't. even though he's finally figured out a way to remember where his room is, it's better off this way β even if it means sometimes accidentally falling asleep on a pile of mats in the manor's huge gym at 3 am.
zoro leaves dinner early tonight, angrily tugging at the bow tie around his neck that feels like it's strangling him. it's one thing to stare at a certain blonde across the room for a little too long because the fancy, expensive clothes this place has suit him and he looks stupidly good β and it's another to get caught. he shucks off his clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor, stepping into the hot water he's drawn into the large claw-foot tub in the center of the bathroom and sinking into its pleasantly scented depths. nami says she likes bubble baths because they're relaxing. zoro needs to fucking relax.
β and he maybe does, for a little while, arms draped lazily over the lip of the tub, head tipping back, eyes closed. when the door opens, zoro tenses, brow furrowing even if he remains determined to keep his eyes closed and look serene and unfuckingbothered. )
action bc whatever
it's part why he spends a lot of nights in nami's room, honestly β and occasionally koby's, too, when zoro's feeling particularly pathetic and isn't in the mood to talk about his feelings because at least koby will listen when zoro tells him to shut the fuck up about it. it pisses him off to lay in his own offensively large bed at night thinking about the fact that there are only two walls and a bathroom separating him from some asshole that loves him but pretends that he doesn't. even though he's finally figured out a way to remember where his room is, it's better off this way β even if it means sometimes accidentally falling asleep on a pile of mats in the manor's huge gym at 3 am.
zoro leaves dinner early tonight, angrily tugging at the bow tie around his neck that feels like it's strangling him. it's one thing to stare at a certain blonde across the room for a little too long because the fancy, expensive clothes this place has suit him and he looks stupidly good β and it's another to get caught. he shucks off his clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor, stepping into the hot water he's drawn into the large claw-foot tub in the center of the bathroom and sinking into its pleasantly scented depths. nami says she likes bubble baths because they're relaxing. zoro needs to fucking relax.
β and he maybe does, for a little while, arms draped lazily over the lip of the tub, head tipping back, eyes closed. when the door opens, zoro tenses, brow furrowing even if he remains determined to keep his eyes closed and look serene and unfuckingbothered. )
If you have to piss, go piss and then fuck off.