Some days were harder than others.

Drake couldn't be more grateful to walk back into his quarters, that night. He thought spending a few days in Wano, instead of Onigashima, would alleviate the stress of being constantly under Beast Pirates eyes, but he underestimated the impact Kaido was having on the locals. Seeing all that misery, the hopelessness of the population, was getting to him. And having to do the Emperor's dirty work, well...

Drake walked into his chambers and closed the door, letting himself go against it. His gloved fingers rose to rub his eyes.

"You look awful."

The man nearly jumped out of his skin, axe immediately between his hands as he assumed the offensive stance with a snarl. Then his blue eyes landed on your figure, lazily sitting at his desk, your scythe abandoned against the wall.

A smirk lined your face at his reaction, a mixture between amusement and pity.

"Wow, it's not like you to be caught off guard this bad."

A heavy sigh left his body, releasing most of the tension before he steadied himself.

"Y/n. What are you doing here? Did somebody–"

"See me? No."

Drake lowered his weapon and you stood up.

If there was anyone that could walk into Yonko territory undetected, it was you. The Shadow Mistress, as pirates and fellow marines started to call you after you made a name for yourself with your stealth (and matching Devil Fruit).

"What are you doing here?"

The smirk disappeared from your features.

"You missed your last report."

"I couldn't talk. I didn't have a chance to sneak away from indiscreet eyes until now."

"Mh."

You circled the room, gaze sliding around the walls and scarce furniture.

"Did they send you to check up on me?" Drake asked, leaving his axe in the corner of the room.

"Not yet, but they will. Koby is worried, and the higher-ups..."

"They still don't trust me, do they?"

You turned to Drake.

He was staring down at you with his stern expression, no real emotion on his face, just as you remembered him.

"No."

If your frank reply stirred something inside him, he didn't show. Instead, his pose relaxed and he dropped his leather jacket on the chair, his massive torso now on full display.

"Have you seen what's outside the capital?"

"A little, yes," you admitted.

"How could they think I would ever willingly be part of something like this?"

You shrugged, the dark cloak waving with your movements.

"It's not so different from what the World Government does to many other islands. Being a marine means to close an eye, sometimes. More often, both."

"SWORD is supposed to be different!"

Oh, so here's the emotion.

You watched him brusquely turning to you, his gaze catching fire for a second.

"That's why I'm here! To change things."

When you did not reply, Drake let out a tense breath and pressed his hands against his eyes.

"Sorry, it's been a difficult couple of weeks."

He had not even lowered his arm when he felt your presence close, inches from his chest. Even before his undercover mission, when you still worked together, he never got used to the way you could sneak up on people or literally disappear in the shadows at will. He had seen you do it several times to others. But never to him.

Drake knew your style; he knew that feeling your sudden presence so close usually meant feeling the cold kiss of your scythe through the jugular a moment later.

He felt the warmth of your hands on his bare sides instead.

Your touch set his skin on fire, goosebumps quickly crawling up his ribs and to his chest. With some inhuman effort, he managed not to startle, but he couldn't help his eyes flicking down on you, wide, stoicism evaporated.

"No one else could do what you do, Drake," you said softly "That's why I came. So I can tell those fuckers that you're still a marine. More than they ever will,"

Drake blinked, then swallowed, trying in vain to regain his composure.

Like he did not spend the last three years pushing the thought of your old squad in a dark corner of his mind. When SWORD was still a young organization, composed by the strongest and more hopeful newcomers. When there was just a bunch of you going on weird missions together, the missions that no one else would take up. You risked it all every time and celebrated after, on the deck of the ship, with a drink and little more.

Like it wasn't your laugh the first thing that came to his mind if he only allowed himself to think about those nights.

What was the point? Being part of SWORD meant putting everything on the line every day. He had smothered his feelings back then, it was just natural to let them die after he left.

Drake looked down at you and you smiled.

"They might not trust you completely, but I do. Koby and the other youngsters do. And anyone who ever fought by your side."

"I–"

His throat closed on the words, a grimace tugging at his features for a moment, before he let the façade fall. His massive shoulders slumped, the arm dropped.

"I'm tired."

The admission surprised even him. He had never allowed himself to think that before. Because if he did...

"It's okay," you leaned your forehead on his sternum "It's okay to be tired."

Drake stiffened for a second. Then he let out a breath, and his arms encircled your smaller figure.

His hug was enveloping and warm, like sinking into thermal waters. But there was the pounding heart, and the steel body around you, and his breath fanning your hair, until his chin came to rest on top of your head. He was heavy, in a comforting way.

"It'll be over soon," you murmured.

Drake held you a little tighter and hid his face in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his torso and closed your eyes.

Yes.

Yes, it was going to be over soon, and after that maybe you could take the sea together again. The world was about to change, after all.

Maybe it would be a world where the two of you could be together.