[ There's a slight hitch in his next breath at her admission, and he's quiet for a long moment. Because fucking hell, he missed her too, and he said as much at the bar, didn't he? And he imbued it with every fucking emotion he could, because he didn't know if they'd get to see each other again; he thought for sure he would be walking out with the other Ravagers, back to the Eclector and back to whatever shitty jobs Yondu deigned to give him, back to that handful of assholes that overwhelmed him most nights -- and were allowed to, as long as it didn't impede Peter's ability to work.

"He ain't no use broken," Peter overheard Yondu say, once. He's pretty sure Yondu was talking about him, after Peter was sent to the medic in the early days of his return. It sort of sounded like he was giving them permission.

-- He shies away from that train of thought. It'll just-- piss him off. Make him angry and upset, make him feel useless and powerless.

Think about now, Peter, he tells himself.

Right now he's on a ship filled with people who kind of maybe give a shit about him, and he has a beautiful woman in his bed who risked a whole fucking lot on his behalf, and he owes it to all of them, he thinks, to get things back on their old track as soon as possible.

He smirks a little, or tries to -- which is for the best, because Kasumi can't see the botched attempted anyway, positioned as they are. ]

Well, there are a lot of good things about me to miss. My looks and my sense of humor, for one. My modesty, for another.