[ Peter is-- usually not one to embarrass. He's rarely self-conscious.
But-- he knows he looks like shit. Medi-Gel doesn't do anything for bruising or for healed-over cuts, so what they ended up using on the trip back to the Milano was for the new stuff, the new wounds he'd bandaged when he could haul himself to the med bay. And he's lost some weight and looking pretty gaunt; he's seriously lacking in the sleep department, and put that in conjunction with the black eyes, and he imagines he looks like a zombie from a Romero film.
Or, failing that, like he's in the middle of putting together a Rocket costume.
And her open staring kind of-- unsettles him. His free hand rubs the back of neck, and he licks his dry lips nervously. His gaze flicks to a spot on his bedspread. ]
... See something you like?
[ It's a touch sarcastic, a touch self-deprecating. Humor is an easy defense mechanism, after all. ]
no subject
But-- he knows he looks like shit. Medi-Gel doesn't do anything for bruising or for healed-over cuts, so what they ended up using on the trip back to the Milano was for the new stuff, the new wounds he'd bandaged when he could haul himself to the med bay. And he's lost some weight and looking pretty gaunt; he's seriously lacking in the sleep department, and put that in conjunction with the black eyes, and he imagines he looks like a zombie from a Romero film.
Or, failing that, like he's in the middle of putting together a Rocket costume.
And her open staring kind of-- unsettles him. His free hand rubs the back of neck, and he licks his dry lips nervously. His gaze flicks to a spot on his bedspread. ]
... See something you like?
[ It's a touch sarcastic, a touch self-deprecating. Humor is an easy defense mechanism, after all. ]