[ Gamora isn't sure what question she expected from Peter, but that isn't it. Genuine surprise slips past her composure, the pointedness of it making her reach up to brush her fingertips along the braid.
A pang of nostalgia (and accompanying concern for her Peter) rises in her gut, and that's probably why she slips, ]
no subject
A pang of nostalgia (and accompanying concern for her Peter) rises in her gut, and that's probably why she slips, ]
You—
[ —and then corrects herself, ]
... He taught me.