[ He doesn’t watch as she works the cannula out of her arm – because ugh, gross – but he winces when he hears the sounds of discomfort coming from her way. He glances over when he hears the quiet click of the tube falling away, knocking against the frame of her bed, which means he sees the way she studies him.
He hears the words first before he recognizes the tone. In response to the words, Peter snorts out a laugh, scrubbing at his face, and with a healthy dose of sarcasm, ]
Aww, Gamora. That’s sweet of you to say.
[ And a half-second later, the way she’s looking at him, the way she sounded finally clicks, and he frowns a little. ]
I’m fine, though. [ Because it bears repeating. He looks like hell, feels like hell, but a part of him recognizes that he’s coming out of something, not falling into it. He’s better, though he doesn’t remember being worse, and it seems Gamora needs the reminder. ]
Whatever happened, you know it’s not your fault, right?
no subject
He hears the words first before he recognizes the tone. In response to the words, Peter snorts out a laugh, scrubbing at his face, and with a healthy dose of sarcasm, ]
Aww, Gamora. That’s sweet of you to say.
[ And a half-second later, the way she’s looking at him, the way she sounded finally clicks, and he frowns a little. ]
I’m fine, though. [ Because it bears repeating. He looks like hell, feels like hell, but a part of him recognizes that he’s coming out of something, not falling into it. He’s better, though he doesn’t remember being worse, and it seems Gamora needs the reminder. ]
Whatever happened, you know it’s not your fault, right?