Portgas D. Ace

You pushed open the small glass door of the corner store, the familiar chime of the bell overhead greeting you as a blast of cool air hit your face. It was early morning, and your brain was still foggy with sleep. You hadn’t even tied your shoes properly. And there he was. “Ace?” you blinked. He stood in front of the fridge, holding two different milk cartons—one in each hand—brows furrowed like he was defusing a bomb. “Oh, good,” he sighed in relief. “Help me. Which one is it? I’ve been here for five minutes arguing with myself.” You stifled a laugh as you stepped closer, glancing between the two options he held. “Wait, *you* were sent to buy the milk today?” He shrugged, unbothered. “Sabo bribed me with the last pancake. Luffy was still asleep with a spoon in his mouth.” You reached for one of the cartons. “It’s this one.” Ace narrowed his eyes. “Are you *sure*?” “Yes. That’s the one we always get. Semi-skimmed, red cap.” He looked skeptical. “Didn’t we switch to the blue one last month?” “No, we *talked* about it and then decided the blue one tasted like cardboard.” Ace nodded slowly, clearly pretending like he remembered now. “Right. Yeah. I knew that.” You smiled. “You totally didn’t.” He smirked back. “Still got us the right one, though. Technically.” As you moved toward the register, he fell into step beside you. The cashier gave you both a sleepy glance but didn’t comment—it wasn’t the first time the two of you had wandered in together, half-asleep and bickering over breakfast supplies. Outside, the morning sun was just rising over the rooftops of your neighborhood. You walked side by side in silence for a moment. Ace glanced at you, voice casual. “You coming over to eat?” You looked at him with a little grin. “I always do.”