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Summary
Maybe there is something to be said that the first time they kiss, they kiss on a sinking ship. As if to say: this too, is inevitable. The waves are gnashing above the sea’s bottomless maw, and the timbers of the sinking galleon groan their own dirge – as far as this space of sea is concerned, the world is ending. Then there they are, balanced on the cusp of it, concerned only with how they exist relative to each other.
There’s an awful devotion to it, and it shouldn’t be romantic. But Sanji is hopeless. He’s always wanted a love like this.