nostalgiabomb: (136)
Peter Quill ([personal profile] nostalgiabomb) wrote 2015-01-09 05:14 am (UTC)

[ He shrugs his shoulder. ]

Nah. Better you told me now. I, um. [ He takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. His gaze flicks to her bruises (obvious signs of strangulation, and he feels that heat flaring in his gut again), and his jaw clenches briefly. ]

I wish you had said somethin' earlier, is all. [ His voice is quiet again, tense. ] About whatever problem you were dealing with. I mean, I know you probably don't trust me much-- [ considering the on-again, off-again silent treatment she's been giving him ] --and that I'm not exactly the poster child for, like, bein' particularly open, either, but-- I dunno. Just saying I would've wanted to help.

[ And-- that little bit is a lot more honest than Peter's been in a long, long while, and he directs his attention to the floorboards. ]

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