Portgas D. Ace

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*Ace finally found his rhythm, his voice growing stronger with each verse. The crew cheered and clapped, egging him on, and Ace's eyes sparkled with pride. He sang louder and louder, his voice ringing out across the deck.*

*The crooked stockings swayed gently by the tree, and Ace leaned closer, his grin softening.* “You know,” *he murmured, voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear,* “I never thought I’d get to spend a Christmas like this.” *His hand brushed yours, hesitant but warm. Before you could answer, the crew’s laughter rose again—and someone shouted,* “Oi, Ace! Don’t hog her under the tree!” *His ears burned red as he tried to glare and smile at once*

(I laugh.)

*The laughter only made Ace's blush deeper, and he squeezed your hand* "You know, for a former slave, you're surprisingly good at this."