[He sees that message, and his heart stops for a second.
Then he releases his held breath slowly and closes the journal without a word, staring listlessly at the hardcover. They all knew this would eventually happen. It’s Luceti; you can’t expect lasting happiness, no matter how you strive for it.
Not that this makes it hurt any less.
Sanji silently figures he can count Nami out for dinner, already adjusting the portions in his mind so nothing goes to waste. And he’d rather make her something fresh when the time comes. It’s the only piece of consolation he can bring as he busies himself about the kitchen, suddenly restless with so many thoughts and this being the best way to calm them; blessed repetition he’s familiar with. He’ll stay there, occasionally checking the journals for any word from Nami (or in case he needs to shout at any shit for being insensitive), until at last he evicts himself away from the stove and oven hours later. It’s either that or he make more food than what’s left of his crew can eat. When he’s out of the kitchen and takes in a breath of something that doesn’t smell like baked goods, he finds his feet leading him up the stairs, to the room that was once Bellemere’s.
... It’s dumb, really, but he wants to check anyway. And the sight that greets him is what he expects for all his desires: bare room, stripped of personality and decoration. Looking at it, you’d never think someone had lived in it. Sanji frowns bitterly at that thought, nearly marches out and slams the door behind him… until a sheet of white catches his attention, settled serenely in the middle of the bed.
He isn’t sure what to make of it, at first. While he knows sometimes people leave things behind for their loved ones, this is the first time he’s found the evidence himself. Briefly, he wonders if this means Bellemere hasn’t left after all (ha). Yeah, the thought doesn’t last as he wanders over, picking the letter up and scanning it with a curious glance—
He gets as far as the first sentence and abruptly stops reading. The paper is folded with upmost care, like it’s made of something precious, before he slides it into his innermost jacket pocket and exits the house. It looks like he’ll take a trip out to the orchard after all. He might not run, but he does close the distance with quick strides, just hoping she hasn’t left already.]
[action] oh god this got long
Then he releases his held breath slowly and closes the journal without a word, staring listlessly at the hardcover. They all knew this would eventually happen. It’s Luceti; you can’t expect lasting happiness, no matter how you strive for it.
Not that this makes it hurt any less.
Sanji silently figures he can count Nami out for dinner, already adjusting the portions in his mind so nothing goes to waste. And he’d rather make her something fresh when the time comes. It’s the only piece of consolation he can bring as he busies himself about the kitchen, suddenly restless with so many thoughts and this being the best way to calm them; blessed repetition he’s familiar with. He’ll stay there, occasionally checking the journals for any word from Nami (or in case he needs to shout at any shit for being insensitive), until at last he evicts himself away from the stove and oven hours later. It’s either that or he make more food than what’s left of his crew can eat. When he’s out of the kitchen and takes in a breath of something that doesn’t smell like baked goods, he finds his feet leading him up the stairs, to the room that was once Bellemere’s.
... It’s dumb, really, but he wants to check anyway. And the sight that greets him is what he expects for all his desires: bare room, stripped of personality and decoration. Looking at it, you’d never think someone had lived in it. Sanji frowns bitterly at that thought, nearly marches out and slams the door behind him… until a sheet of white catches his attention, settled serenely in the middle of the bed.
He isn’t sure what to make of it, at first. While he knows sometimes people leave things behind for their loved ones, this is the first time he’s found the evidence himself. Briefly, he wonders if this means Bellemere hasn’t left after all (ha). Yeah, the thought doesn’t last as he wanders over, picking the letter up and scanning it with a curious glance—
He gets as far as the first sentence and abruptly stops reading. The paper is folded with upmost care, like it’s made of something precious, before he slides it into his innermost jacket pocket and exits the house. It looks like he’ll take a trip out to the orchard after all. He might not run, but he does close the distance with quick strides, just hoping she hasn’t left already.]