When you'd woken up, there'd been a man sound asleep at your bedside. His fingers were intertwined with yours, and pure exhaustion must've taken him considering how dark the circles were around his eyes. Something about him had been reassuring and relaxing, despite the fact that you couldn't remember anything about him.
Or yourself.
The room was unfamiliar, and a dull throb in your head was the only indication that something had happened and you were in the bed because you were healing. The air was fresh and warm, sunlight and a soft breeze coming into your room.
You'd pulled your hand away from his just so you could run your fingers through his hair. A muffled groan had been replaced with a contented look, his fitful expression softening as you combed through the blonde locks that topped his head.
The idea that he was a little like a pineapple came into your mind and you smiled to yourself, letting him rest a little more. You weren't confined to the bed, and the door into the rest of the house was open. There was a glass of water by your bed, and a basin with a rag on the side of it.
Maybe you'd had a fever? Come down with a sudden illness and hit your head? The clues were pointing to that, but you couldn't be sure. You felt well enough, but you could feel the weight of prolonged exhaustion in your own limbs.
Exhaustion that lasted long enough to etch dark circles into such an otherwise comforting face.
You sense the man at your bed stir before he started to move, eyes fluttering open to look up and focus on you. They flickered with a teal and gold light for a moment before he seemed to see you entirely.
"Hey," you say softly, a smile on your lips.
"Hey." He says back, sitting up and letting your hand cup his cheek as your fingers slip out of his hair. "How're you feeling?"
"Head aches," you admit. "And... I..." You hesitate, folding your hands in your lap, and looking away from him. There's a pain in your gut you don't completely understand, but at the same time you do.
Guilt.
"I don't remember this place."
Worry crosses his face, and a moment's silence follows. "And... me?"
The look on your face is enough to answer his question and you can see exhaustion settle into his posture and expression. You reach out and put your hand over his, causing his gaze to meet yours.
"I... I feel like I can trust you though." You admit, sheepish smile on your face. "You've been taking care of me, I can tell."
He smiles at you, the expression breaking as pain crosses his features briefly. Clearing his throat he looks away, getting up quickly and turning away.
"Let me... get you something to eat." He says, voice shuddering for a moment before he leaves the room entirely.
You weren't sure what your relationship was with him. Family or romantic. He probably didn't want to say until you had a chance to remember on your own, even with your declaration of trust.
A few moments later he returned with a breakfast in bed tray, an assortment of easy foods on it. He set it down and put a finger up before leaving the room again and coming back with two mugs of warm tea, setting one of them on your breakfast tray before sitting down beside you.
"I can leave you alone while you eat, yoi." He says. "If you'd rather."
You shake your head, pulling a grape free from the small bunch on the plate. "I feel like if I'm left alone I'll become anxious."
"Then... I won't leave you alone until you tell me to." He replies.
"Tell me about this place, while I eat... please." You request, picking another grape free.
While you eat, he tells you about the island. It's people. He tells you he's a doctor on the island, and that the two of you have been sailing together before retiring from an exciting life and settling on this island. He speaks of old friends, old islands, old memories.
He never uses words like love, or pirate, but there's a theme to the stories that feels decidedly swashbuckler-like. He speaks about his devil fruit, he speaks about loss, recounting the friends that have had to travel ahead of you.
Tears fall from your face without you realizing, and his warm hand brushes them away. You don't admit you can't bring any faces to mind, but there's a sense of closeness that twists your heart.
"If you're up for it, now that you're done eating," he begins, lifting the tray. "We can go for a walk."
"I... want to," you begin hesitantly.
"But?" He prompts setting the tray down in the kitchen before coming back into the room.
"I don't know that I'd make it back to the house."
"... You were always good at assessing your limits. Don't worry, if you get worn out before we return, I'll carry you, yoi."
The two of you walk, enjoying the sun, the breeze, and the serenity of the island. He points out houses and families, gives you names, and occupations. Lets you repeat them and then says them again. As though he knows you don't want to worry other people with your current predicament.
The two of you will get through it, there's no need to worry others.
You end up walking to Pops and Ace's graves. You put your hands against the smooth stone, letting your fingers run over the names.
"He was too young," you say softly, finger slipping along the C in his name. "I... can't see his face, but I feel like I remember flames and fire." You tilt your head.
"He was a logia?" You ask.
He nods.
"That... makes sense. The fire in my mind wasn't menacing." You pull your hand away, hugging yourself, and trying to keep the tears welling up in your chest from bubbling over.
He says your name, it's a word you remember, and it's enough to break the gates. You sob, on you own for a breath, before long, warm arms are wrapped around you from behind. He hugs you over your own arms, tucked down low, head resting against yours.
"We loved him." You say, words floating on your sorrow.
"We did." He agrees quietly, arms tightening around you.
You stand there quietly for a long moment, before turning your head toward him, still wrapped in one another, eyes closed, warmed by the sun. A word walks along your heart, slipping through your veins, and dancing against your soul.
A name more comfortable than your own.
"Marco."
You feel him flinch, feel the rush of warm air slip from his lips, and the careful shift of his arms as he seems desperate to hold you just a little bit closer.
"Yeah, pretty bird?" He replies, words light against your skin, hopeful but unsure.
"I loved you different."
"You did."
You turn inside his strong embrace that breaks like paper at your command, facing him directly. Your eyes searching his, flickers of teal and gold bursting emotions he's trying to hide in his irises.
"I do." You correct, hand soft against his cheek, eyes shifting along features that are new and comforting.
"You-." He begins, a tear slipping down his cheek and curling around your fingers.
"Stay with me until I remember." You mean the words as a plea, but they feel heavy, like a command that moves your hands past his cheeks. Fingers against the back of his neck, pulling him close.
"I will. Until then, and beyond it." He promises, arms around your waist, pulling your body closer.
"Every time?" Your commanding tone is shattered, scared this moment will become a hazy memory of warm sunlight and little more.
"At least once more than needed." He promises, warm lips brushing against yours, letting the soft gasp of air dance between you both for a moment before he pulls you in - holding you close and kissing you deeply.
The sweet kiss breaks, and he shifts, easily lifting you into his arms with such grace it almost feels more natural than walking on your own two legs.
"I can still walk." You hum, arms around his shoulders, head nuzzled just under his jaw.
"I know," he says sweetly, kissing the top of your head. "I just wanted you in my arms a little longer, yoi."