Just a bit, yes. Despite this, Sanji's foot drops to the ground without protest. Far be it from him to expect manners from the likes of Luffy, the inner workings of whose mind still elude Sanji to this day. There's also something to be said about the flutter of relief that rises from his chest, though it arrests before it can bubble up into a proper cheer. He should be happy—a part of him undoubtedly is—but he can't shake the feeling that there's more than meets the eye.
For one, there's no fracas of which to speak around them, though he half-expects frills to jump out from the bushes at any second.
Focus.
Arching an eyebrow at the staring, Sanji opts to do some sizing up of his own. His eyes flit down the remarkably kempt state of the man before him, up the shaded hairline rimmed by thick curls, and back down to the curious gaze in never-ending motion. There's enough of a difference in their eye levels from his recollections that he questions whether he's grown a few inches or Luffy's actually shrunk. His right hand twitches at his side, and he finds himself craving a smoke as he dimly wonders how well Luffy's been eating.
His brow knits into a frown at the thought, but then his reservations are cut short by the nerve of Luffy, who's had to endure the losses of loved ones left and right since they were all forcibly parted, to ask after Sanji of all people.
(Aside the fact that his experiences in recent months have been utterly hellish, if still rewarding—)
"Never mind that!" He leans in, closing what little space remains between them, and jabs a finger at Luffy's chest. "What's going on?" he asks, all but demanding the answer with another press of his finger. "Why are you here? Putting aside the fact that it hasn't even been a year, this isn't where we agreed to meet up. How did you even reach this island? Answer all of that!"
no subject
For one, there's no fracas of which to speak around them, though he half-expects frills to jump out from the bushes at any second.
Focus.
Arching an eyebrow at the staring, Sanji opts to do some sizing up of his own. His eyes flit down the remarkably kempt state of the man before him, up the shaded hairline rimmed by thick curls, and back down to the curious gaze in never-ending motion. There's enough of a difference in their eye levels from his recollections that he questions whether he's grown a few inches or Luffy's actually shrunk. His right hand twitches at his side, and he finds himself craving a smoke as he dimly wonders how well Luffy's been eating.
His brow knits into a frown at the thought, but then his reservations are cut short by the nerve of Luffy, who's had to endure the losses of loved ones left and right since they were all forcibly parted, to ask after Sanji of all people.
(Aside the fact that his experiences in recent months have been utterly hellish, if still rewarding—)
"Never mind that!" He leans in, closing what little space remains between them, and jabs a finger at Luffy's chest. "What's going on?" he asks, all but demanding the answer with another press of his finger. "Why are you here? Putting aside the fact that it hasn't even been a year, this isn't where we agreed to meet up. How did you even reach this island? Answer all of that!"