Disclaimer: One Piece and all of the Characters belong to Eiichiro Oda. I don't own or make a profit off of this.

A/N; Suppp. It's been awhile since I last posted anything~! This was inspired by "Hello" by Adele. I don't know why, but the image at the end of this story resounded with me so strongly I just had to write it out. So uh, yeah. Please read and review. AND WELCOME ME BACK!

He knew it was his fault… But then, Zoro hadn't made it easier. Sanji's fingers drummed on the armrest as he stared at the phone. He should call him. It's been a few years…. Sanji shook his head, running a hand through blonde hair frustratedly. He told himself that a week ago when he called in the middle of the night, recovering from the ache of sleeping with yet another faceless girl.

Sanji knew he'd called at least once a week, each time he called, Zoro never answered, or was never home. Sanji wanted to say he was angry, but he didn't blame him.

Cursing, Sanji got to his feet and wiped sweaty hands over a pair of ragged brown sweatpants with a logo that had long since faded. These were Zoro's. When he'd fled, he'd just taken them, as if it would help him remember Zoro, or to spur him to go back home. But it never happened. He never went home. Seven years had gone by since then, and each year, he promised himself that he'd go home, go check up on the shitty old man, try and see Zoro, to apologize…. But it never happened. There had always been tomorrow.

Sanji knew that it was a shitty excuse, that he was a shitty person for making that excuse. But that excuse came easily to him, and he couldn't see a reason to change it.

Sanji began to pace. "It's been seven years, that shitty marimo bastard can't still be mad can he? I told him I was sorry. That shitty asshole's always been one to hold a grudge." Sanji muttered a string of curses under his breath.

Snarling, he said "Sanji, get your ass in gear!" Sanji marched over to the phone and picking it up from the cradle, viciously stabbed the number he had long since memorized by heart.

'Hello, you have reached the answering machine of: Roronoa Zoro. At the tone leave a message.'

Sanji inhaled and after a moment said into the phone "Zoro, it's been seven years. Can we talk, please? Call me back. It's been seven years…. Zoro, I'm sorry." Hands shaking, Sanji bit back the tears as he said "I-I'm really sorry Zoro… Call me back, please?" Sanji hung up the phone and collapsed in front of the counter, cradling the phone in his hand.

He shouldn't be surprised that Zoro still wouldn't take his call. If Sanji had been in Zoro's shoes, he sure as hell wouldn't.

When they were both 18, they'd been in a not-lovers-but-totally-lovers relationship. They'd spent time fighting and screaming, a good deal of fucking too, but Sanji and Zoro had both loved it. That was their way of expressing their not-love for each other. They'd done it since they were 16. Dating for two of the best years of Sanji's life and yet, he somehow managed to fuck that up.

It was during the summer after they had both just graduated high school. Sanji had just gotten the acceptance letter from a renowned culinary school, and he'd wanted to celebrate, so he'd thrown a party. Everyone he knew had been invited. Of course Zoro had been invited. But they'd had one of their not-fights before the party, over something stupid that Sanji could barely remember what it was now. Probably had to do with women. Despite his 'I hate-love Zoro' routine, he couldn't seem to get over his attraction to women.

That had been the problem.

He'd been fawning over women earlier, taking their orders for food at the party, and he hadn't even asked Zoro, and that had been the problem. Zoro had always treated him like a priority...Sanji had just treated him like a best friend and a convenient fuck. At the time he hadn't seen it though. To him, it was Zoro, and Zoro was always so there, so strong and sturdy.

Sanji didn't realize he was crying. Absentmindedly, he wiped at the tears with the sleeve of his dark blue cardigan. It was old, and stretched, but comfortable. Pushing himself to his feet, Sanji put the phone back on the hook and walked through his small one bedroom apartment to the one bathroom. Stripping his clothes off, he hung the sweatpants and sweatshirt on the back of the door of his bathroom.

The shower was cold, efficient and quick. Dressing in a pair of black silk boxers, blue jeans and a light blue polo, he pulled the same worn out dark blue cardigan on. Running a hand through wet blonde hair, he didn't dry it, he couldn't be bothered beyond a cursory towel dry.

Putting socks and sneakers on, he grabbed his keys and wallet, shutting the door to his crappy one bedroom apartment behind him. Getting in his semi-decent car, he drove away from the apartment complex.

As Sanji drove, he stared almost listlessly out of the car. It had been his fault…. When the party had happened, as if to irritate Zoro, to make him jealous, he'd flirted with a girl, and it wasn't long before they were making out. After they'd stopped, he had glared almost defiantly at Zoro, only to realize he'd made a mistake. Zoro's expression had been heartbroken… No, that wasn't the right word, but there had been an indescribable pain in Zoro's expression, one Sanji could never hope to replicate, and one that made Sanji's stomach sink.

Zoro had walked out of the party, angry as hell, and Sanji had followed, but Zoro hadn't wanted to see him. Sanji had tried anything, kicking the male, bribing him with booze, to get Zoro to stop and talk to him. Zoro had, with the same steadfast determination ignored him. Sanji had lost his temper then, and after cursing Zoro, had let the male leave.

After that, Sanji had tried twice to get in contact with Zoro, to apologize, to seek forgiveness, but Zoro had never answered. Fine, Sanji had thought. He'd stubbornly just left, gone to his culinary school and hadn't looked back until a year later. He'd called Zoro in a moment of weakness, or rather, clarity. He'd called numerous times, leaving a number of messages on Zoro's cellphone, and then his answering machine when he'd gotten that number from Nami when he'd called her.

Things had stayed that way for four years. Sanji calling, Zoro never answering, and Sanji getting angry, cursing Zoro's name, calling again, and apologizing and trying to get Zoro to call him back.

Sanji pulled into the parking lot. Getting out of the car, he locked it and after checking his car would be fine, he walked towards the building. Entering the building, and greeting familiar faces along the way, Sanji made his way down the hallway towards the elevators.

He was so used to this routine now, he could do it, did do it, on autopilot. Stepping into the empty elevator as usual, he pressed the number '11' and waited for the elevator to take him to the eleventh floor.

Two years ago, Luffy had called him. Luffy was Zoro's best friend from when they were kids. Luffy had called him with bad news. Zoro had gotten into an accident six months ago and was in the hospital.

There had been always been tomorrow.

Sanji resisted snorting to himself. What tomorrow? Reaching room '1122', he pushed the door open, the beeping of machines greeting him. Walking over to the bed, he sat on the edge of it and ran fingers through familiar green hair. Tomorrow. What tomorrow?

What kind of tomorrow was there when Zoro was in a coma in the fucking hospital?! Sanji had been so stupid.

Sanji had been so shocked, even as he listened to Luffy tell him the details of the accident. Zoro had been driving home after teaching the kids at the local dojo his adoptive father ran. A drunk driver had hit Zoro head on. Doctors said it was a miracle Zoro hadn't died. That didn't change the fact that Zoro had been left in a coma instead. Lucky? Ha, how was that lucky when you were put in the hospital with a twenty percent chance of waking up?

Sanji hadn't liked those odds. He'd then snapped into action. After calling Zoro's adoptive father for permission, he'd started doing research before coordinating things. He'd put all the money he'd been saving for a house towards moving Zoro to a better hospital near him. He'd given up his nice two bedroom apartment with a view and had moved into a crappy one bedroom. Hospital bills were expensive, and even though he was a very well-known chef, he couldn't afford to pay for the luxuries and Zoro's hospital bills at the same time.

Sanji just had to wait, the stupid marimo was probably lost somewhere and that's why he was taking so long to wake up. Fine! Sanji could wait, he would wait. Reaching over to the answering machine out of habit, Sanji hit 'play' and instantly the first message played… An update from Luffy…. Nami talking about his finances and how she was looking after Zoro's money for him….Franky talking about turning Zoro into a cyborg in case he never woke up….Usopp's lies, and Chopper tearfully crying into the phone and promising to cure Zoro. Chopper was a good pre-med student, top of his class. Zoro would have liked that.

Looking at Zoro, Sanji couldn't help but think that Zoro looked like he was just sleeping. Almost like sleeping beauty… Sanji snorted. He said "You'd be the ugliest sleeping beauty ever marimo." Sanji fell silent.

Zoro laying on the bed, hooked up to all those machines….. IV, heart monitor, breathing tubes.. maybe sleeping beauty wasn't quite the right word. Leaning over, Sanji pressed his forehead against Zoro's. After a moment, Sanji whispered like he always did when he came to visit:

"Hello, Zoro."

One day, Zoro would wake up. When that happened, Sanji would be there and he'd tell Zoro everything…. Including how sorry he was.