[ Of all the things, Charlie was not expecting Peter to try and fucking tackle him. Peter's got him beat on sheer size, and he goes down easily, crashing painfully into a chair or two before slamming to the ground.
The next few seconds are a blur of fists and feet and half-growled, half-screamed profanities, and then Peter's presence on top of him is gone, and in the next moment, too-large hands are closing over Charlie's shoulders and hauling him to his feet. He realizes that neither Drax nor Groot has picked him up, but rather one half of the bar's pair of bouncers- the other of which must be carting Peter off.
He doesn't care enough to resist as they cart him to the door and pitch him into the street.
He's so fucking done with this whole fucked up situation. He just lays there for a moment, wondering if his life would be better if he'd never met Peter Jason Quill. (A part of him thinks, no. No it wouldn't, because you'd spend your whole life with a piece of you missing. God dammit.) ]
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The next few seconds are a blur of fists and feet and half-growled, half-screamed profanities, and then Peter's presence on top of him is gone, and in the next moment, too-large hands are closing over Charlie's shoulders and hauling him to his feet. He realizes that neither Drax nor Groot has picked him up, but rather one half of the bar's pair of bouncers- the other of which must be carting Peter off.
He doesn't care enough to resist as they cart him to the door and pitch him into the street.
He's so fucking done with this whole fucked up situation. He just lays there for a moment, wondering if his life would be better if he'd never met Peter Jason Quill. (A part of him thinks, no. No it wouldn't, because you'd spend your whole life with a piece of you missing. God dammit.) ]