Smoker's Temptation

2. Awakened Memories

"Star?" A gentle voice calls out through the half-opened door. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah... sorry, did my light bother you?"

The door fully opens and Robin enters the room with two glass cups in hand. "No, not at all. I'm usually up at this time anyways. Care for a drink up on the deck? The moon is beautiful tonight."

"Sure, that sounds lovely." Star smiles.

Following Robin up the crooked set of stairs, Star snickers at the last minute repairs Usopp was forced to do. The three holes from the canons of the Navy ship were now covered by uneven planks of wood and other flotsam he and Chopper found floating around in the ocean.  

"Should we be idiots and sit in Luffy's spot?" Robin gestures towards the head of the Thousand Sunny with a slight smile.

Star nods  "Let's do it!"

A braid of long arms surround the sides of the golden sun lion,  creating a  makeshift hand railing. The two of them grasp onto the human railing and begin their ascent towards the top of the sun lion' head.

"Ah!"

"What's wrong?" Robin asks, pulling a bottle of whiskey from her pocket.

"The arms are warm!"

"Of course they are. Their temperatures correspond with mine!" Robin laughs. "What did you think they would feel like?"

"I-I don't know! It's still weird to me!" Star whines. "Don't get me wrong. I love your power and think it's absolutely amazing... but, you know. I just can't... you know."

Robin hands Star a full glass and smiles. "It's okay, I understand."

"Thanks." Star grimaces, taking the glass of honey-colored liquid and plopping herself onto the sun lion's head. 

"Cheers." 

Clink.

Sloshing the whiskey back and forth in her glass a few times, Star nudges the tip of her nose into the mouth of the cup and inhales. A dark oak that's been cured for many years fill her nostrils, faint yet noticeable traces of dried white pears and vanilla bean cling to the dominant oak aroma, as a reticent wife clings to her husband's sleeve. However, the infinitesimal twinkle in her eye makes you wonder if this reticence is yet a mere act. Putting the cup to her lips, she holds the first sip within her mouth, rolling the spirit around with her tongue. The previously reserved vanilla has livened up, coquettishly dancing across the oak, making its presence known while braiding itself within the sweetness of the pear. The oak appears to have taken a step back, watching with careful eyes as the now buoyant wife begins her solo tango. Brushing up against her vigilant husband, her hand cups the side of his face, lingering just a second too long. He throws his arm around her waist and presses chaste kisses along the side of her neck before completely shielding her away from any wandering eyes. What would become of him if another suitor's eyes caught hers? A quick push of the throat and the scene is no longer. A subtle burning sensation pricks at the back of her mouth albeit the amorous memory it had just imprinted onto her curious tastebuds. 

"But it burns! How can you sit here and drink this stuff all day?!"

"You don't chug whiskey, my love. You have to experience the story it is trying to tell. Every whiskey comes with a different flavor profile, each of which determines its overall story. Inhale its aroma and try to pick out as many ingredients as you can. After you have a pretty good idea of it's scent, take a long sip and coat your entire mouth. Allow the liquid to re-enact its play for you. Don't rush it. It'll tell you when it's ready to be swallowed." Smoker smiles.