[ He swallows thickly, letting her move his hands where she wants them, and part of him thinks this is patently unfair, that she's only saying shit like this when her filter is clearly on the fritz.
Gamora probably doesn't mean what he thinks she means. And more than that, she probably doesn't mean what she thinks she means, because whatever toxin or strange substance she's dealing with right now is making her weird.
Something tugs in him, though, something makes him want to surge forward, to move his hands along her exposed skin, to slip his fingers beneath the loose collar of her – his – shirt, to map out the contours of her body—
It's— suddenly a lot warmer in here, isn't it? And now he's seriously lamenting the choice of a long-sleeved shirt.
He swallows, gaze darting to a nearby cabinet. ]
Maybe, we, uh. Ought to just— sit here. Quietly. [ So no one says anything they might regret. ]
no subject
[ He swallows thickly, letting her move his hands where she wants them, and part of him thinks this is patently unfair, that she's only saying shit like this when her filter is clearly on the fritz.
Gamora probably doesn't mean what he thinks she means. And more than that, she probably doesn't mean what she thinks she means, because whatever toxin or strange substance she's dealing with right now is making her weird.
Something tugs in him, though, something makes him want to surge forward, to move his hands along her exposed skin, to slip his fingers beneath the loose collar of her – his – shirt, to map out the contours of her body—
It's— suddenly a lot warmer in here, isn't it? And now he's seriously lamenting the choice of a long-sleeved shirt.
He swallows, gaze darting to a nearby cabinet. ]
Maybe, we, uh. Ought to just— sit here. Quietly. [ So no one says anything they might regret. ]