• ғʀᴇᴇ • (σηε ριεcε x ғεм!яεα∂εя)

|| 007

Smoker's Rare Day Off

Smoker wakes up and doesn't see you in his bed. He panics. "(L/N)?!"

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"(L/N)?!" he shouts again, once he's  searched under the bed, behind the bathroom curtains, and over the ledge of the window. He slams the kitchen door open.

"Um."

Smoker heaves. You stare at him. He leans heavily on the doorframe.

"Uhh..."

Smoker glares at you and the sandwich and the broken handcuffs on the counter.

"We had a deal," he says angrily.

You roll your eyes. "Did you really expect me to sleep in a random man's bed? With said random man in the room?"

Smoker sighs, sitting down on a nearby stool. "I asked you if you didn't mind," he says slowly. His patience was already running thin so early in the morning. "You said you didn't, so you slept on my bed, and I watched over you in case you did anything funny. That was all there was to it."

"Hmm..." you hummed, narrowing your eyes. "No, that doesn't sound right. It went a little more like this..."

Yesterday night, 11:25 P.M.

"Get in."

"What-"

"You've already talked my ear off about your real 'occupation', Ms. (L/N). I don't need any more of your nonsense." Smoker nudges you towards a room. A bedroom. "Get. In."

"What do you think you're-"

Smoker secures your handcuff to the bed's railing. "You don't mind this, right?"

He looks at you and then to the handcuffs. You test its tightness. It doesn't dig into your skin. "I don't, but-"

"Okay, good night then." Smoker lets go of your wrist and settles down on a chair tucked in the corner. He nods off immediately.

You stare at him blankly, and you wait a few minutes until you hear him snore, before you crush the handcuffs that bind you to the bed.

-

The empty plate is the only thing between you and Smoker's slumped form.

You sipped your drink and waited for him to recover.

"I'm sorry," Smoker eventually says, bowing his head to you. "I was too exhausted to communicate properly and made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe. I'm really, truly, sorry."

Silence echoed in the room. Smoker closes his eyes and silently berates himself once more.

The clink of your cup was perhaps the loudest thing Smoker has ever heard.

"I understand," you say. Smoker lets out a sigh of relief. He doesn't lift his head. "I forgive you, I know it wasn't your intention to scare me. You can lift your head."

Smoker does just that and smiles. "Thank you."

Sunrays enter the room and bathes the two of you in light. Smoker looks out the window, then back at you.

He stands. "I want to make it up to you." His tone exposes his guilt, and for that reason, it made you a little more willing to go along with what he says. "Will you take a walk with me?"

-

"Sir Smoker!" A lady calls out. "Our kebab just cooked, would you like to buy some?"

"These clothes would fit you so well, Sir Smoker! Try them out!"

"Your future is looking up, young man."

Smoker politely dismisses another beckoning vendor before he turns to you and puts his hands in his pockets sheepishly. "I'm sorry for all the noise," he says, sighing. "I didn't know stalls started setting up here; this used to be a very quiet place."

"It's okay," you reassure. You hold up a bag of treats. "I'm getting plenty of stuff out of it, Sir Smoker."

Smoker sighs once more.

-

Ice cream drips on your fingers. You lick it off.

Smoker coughs to the side.

"You okay?"

Smoker nods his head. He hands you a tissue. "Don't do that again."

You accept the tissue, smiling up at him. "You're so dirty-minded, Sir Smoker."

Smoker immediately jerks his body away from you. "I'm not-"

Your laugh cuts off the rest of what he has to say.

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"Lucky bastards." The vendor pulls his window down, effectively blocking the sight of you teasingly inching towards Smoker.

-

Smoker doesn't fight you when you pull at his wrist to go to another stall. His wallet screams in his pocket.

"Do you have this handkerchief in (F/C)?"

"Yes, we do!" the young vendor said, ducking under the counter to grab the requested item. "Here."

You thank him and take the item, examining it. "This one's really good quality, was it handmade?"

The vendor nods excitedly. "My family has been in the business for years. I'm glad you recognize our efforts." He seems to think for a moment, looking at you then at Smoker, who was already ready to pay. He smiles. "How about you get another one for your date? I'll give it to you for free as thanks."

Smoker drops the coins to the ground. You clear your throat. "There's no need," you say. Smoker stands rigidly by the side.

"Oh, I insist," the vendor insists.

You sigh. "Smoker," you call. Smoker is silent. "What's your favorite color?"

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"Brown? Really? Brown is your favorite color?"

Smoker rolls his eyes. "I didn't peg you to be the type to judge, Ms. (L/N)."

You chuckle. You think for a moment. "Call me (F/N)," you say. Smoker stops walking. "I'm not used to being called (L/N)."

"That’s not really appropriate."

"So is this date."

"Da-" Smoker cuts himself off. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop teasing, Ms. (L/)-."

"(F/N)."

"...(F/N)."

You nod, patting his shoulder once in approval, before you continue walking.

Two steps. You turn your head. "Coming?"

Smoker puffs out a cloud of smoke, looking up at the orange sky. To think there was ever a day he would get along with a pirate...

He inhales. Nicotine fills his lungs.

He walks.

A/N:

I mean might as well continue it right

don't expect too much tho