#✕ someday we'll graduate but first let's have a toast [college au]

[pxratehunter-blog]

of bad habits and good intentions, contd. ✕ @blackleg5932

Sanji was static at first, as though he did not comprehend what he was being charged with; or as if he did but was having trouble coming up with a suitable reaction. When a short-lived spark lit his eyes showing he had made the maths and Sanji's face grew even longer, Zoro's confidence in his dirty findings received a boost; which he transfigured into a wide grin. He was proud of himself and he would have Sanji know it. 

"I pay half the rent money, therefore half of the kitchen is mine." His reply was cool, which made Sanji heat up. Zoro could sense that his cook friend would not spend another two minutes without searching his person for a fresh cigarette. When his words became a not-so-friendly warning, Zoro forced himself to deny his instincts' first suggestion, for every fibre of his being was telling him to get physical. 

Getting Sanji with his bare hands or by the tip of the katana was more of a pastime than it was a form of violence. Whatever it was, it was delightful. 

Zoro simply took his time confronting the cook, knowing full well silence could be just as unnerving an answer as a witty remark, and left the kitchen with a shrug. 

Of course, all the tension that had bottled up inside him hadn't just evaporated - it was there, reverberating in his blood, with his heart's every beat. But Zoro's body was not weaker than his will was, and so he collected himself and entered his room, not without grabbing the six-pack first in a last act of defiance. 

No matter how much and how hard they fought, Sanji would never let his friend's stomach be empty. Of course sometimes he would shout at Zoro to make his own dinner, but for some reason seemed to take pity on his friend - the question was, did he took pity on Zoro having nothing better to eat than some microwaved noodles or did he took pity on the noodles being eaten in such a disrespectful way? 

When Sanji went out with his mobile in his hand and still mute earphones coiled in his fingers, Zoro knew he was going out for a jog. Perfect timing. Zoro's plan had formed the moment he had come face-to-face with the reality that his booze would not be so easy to find. If that was the game the cook wanted to play; it was game on. 

Once he was gone, Zoro tried to give it five minutes before execution commenced, lest Sanji come back to the apartment; but what had once been anger had now turned into excitement. Zoro searched the house for all cigarette packets, boxes, and other containers he could find and placed them inside a black waste bag. It was only fair for Sanji to be deprived of his passions after what he had done, what with invading his friend's property and sticking his nose into his own business. 

 When it was time to throw Sanji's cupboard stash inside the bag as well, Zoro gave it a moment's thought: should he leave it there so as to keep Sanji occupied and stall that harsh moment of realization? Nah. Thinking of how good it would be to see Sanji feel so bad was too sweet to resist. Zoro shoved Sanji's entire collection of smokes inside the bag and took it out, not to the nearest bin.

[pxratehunter-blog]

for @blackleg5932

It was a quarter past four in the afternoon and Zoro's mind was still dormant; a strong and invisible force weighing upon his eyelids. Time and mood seemed to be a perfect match again and again, as no single day went by without it being like this, even in the weekends when he had no classes to attend.

It was not that he was lazy, slow or detached of the world around him or of the academic life he currently lead. Zoro's organism just had its own schedules which it would not accommodate to things the likes of the printed timetable he'd been assigned with and given to on his first day on campus. What was something as random and shallow as a system-generated timetable to a strong mind?

Still, things worked fine the way they were, despite his inability to stay awake during class. None of the professors could write down as absent a student who was so physically and vividly present in their class, for Zoro's impressive figure did a good job in filling his seat; and his snoring took pride in filling the atmosphere of the room as well. 

They couldn't expel him for that, not when falling asleep mid-class was an everyday activity of the average student; but they could kick his sleepy behind outside when his snoring became a matter of pollution. Outdoors was the place a student majoring Outdoor Education should be anyways.

Now that classes had ended, the day could finally have a decent start. The system dictated by Zoro's organism would only work because he would make an effort in compensating his classroom inactivity with good studying sessions in the nighttime, when his brain seemed to work to its full potential, for in the quiet of the night inner calmness could be achieved and mind could be set loose. 

Normally, Zoro would scribble the main topics of the day's lectures after making some inquiring, and he would do research on his own without needing annotations. With that issue being secured, Zoro could worry about more pertinent matters, such as booze. 

Unlike what happened to most people, and while pretty much everyone of the present student population would turn to caffeine as a stimulus to keep them awake; it was alcohol that fueled his mind without causing sleepiness. In fact, it had nothing to do with it. It was a good pick-me-up, actually. 

Zoro opened the door to his double room, which was obviously empty as he had to give the key three twists to unlock it. Sanji wasn't there. Good. Kneeling in front of a cabinet, he opened the door to reveal a small fridge inside and there his beloved amber and green-coloured bottles lay as they awaited his return like his most loyal friends. 

Like a treasure chest this cabinet was, like a battered old chest with precious treasure inside, some of it even like liquid gold. 

Of course students were not supposed to keep alcoholic beverages in their rooms, or cigarettes or anything that could be lit and smoked for that matter, but the staff in charge of the dorm were what the students called "good people" and averted their eyes. 

Maybe they enjoyed the prospect of a major fire burning the damn place to smithereens. 

Now sitting on his bed, his duffel bag cast under it, Zoro drank a whole bottle in a continuous take, only stopping when it was empty. It turned out his palate still craved for more and so did his powerful, don't-take-orders-from-damn-timetables brain. He fetched another bottle and lazily stretched his limbs before placing both bottles on top of his desk, where two other bottles were already sitting. It was a really sad collection to contemplate.

At this rhythm, he'd run out of booze pretty soon - which also explained why a big slice of his college budget was spent in liquid things packaged in bottles and cans, even topping his book expenses. In cold fear of a scenario free of alcohol and thus free of peace of mind, Zoro pocketed his wallet and his key after giving three other twists on the keyhole so as to lock the room and went out in the pursuit of bottled happiness.