godslay: (190)

[personal profile] godslay 2019-04-24 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She exhales against his cheek, nodding just slightly enough that she doesn't have to pull away. ]

I know. I know.

[ Her thumbs smooth over bristled cheeks, palms cradling his jaw as she kisses him again and again.

And into the kiss, the barest space between them, ]


I love you, too.

[ And she says it to him, only him, because even while Ego is wearing Peter's face, she can't say it. She won't ever say those words insincerely. ]

More than anything.

[ It's so true that it aches. It's a sharp barb behind her ribs, something that catches and stays her hand – because if she didn't love him, if she didn't feel this way for him, if he wasn't her best friend and every other half of her own jagged edges, it would be so easy. Save the universe, save them all – kill Peter. It would be simple. It would be the right thing to do, and she would do it.

But damn it, sentimentality is a weakness she's never shaken. A softness and sense of mercy that kept drove Gamora to share food with her starving sister, and left Peter alive in his father's hold. She could have killed him months before, so long ago, and maybe she should have (no, she absolutely should have), but she didn't.

She couldn't.

But this time, if all else fails...

She won't hesitate. ]
godslay: (233)

[personal profile] godslay 2019-04-24 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Shh, don't.

[ She shushes him gently, quietly, because she knows he's sorry; she knows none of this is intentional or his fault or something he can control. She knows he's fighting. She knows he's doing everything that he can.

Right now, it's just not enough.

Her chest tightens as Peter's breathing hitches, and for a moment, it's so hard to breathe, because she doesn't want to say goodbye. She doesn't want to let him go. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, her own inhale hitching as she crushes him to her, holds him so close— ]


I love you.

[ Again, murmured and hurried. ]

You won't do this alone.

[ And as much as she wants to cling to him and keep him grounded with her in that moment, she knows it won't save him. Instead of clutching him tight, she starts to ease him back down to the pillows, resettling with him. She can't let it look suspicious when Ego regains control, and if it seemed like she'd been having an entire moment without Ego's knowledge, that could put them all in danger. ]

I'm right here.

[ She strokes back his hair, pressing her lips in a tight line as she takes a deep breath, forces herself to let it go slowly, incrementally. She closes her eyes, loosens her grip, so it's like she's only been holding him unconsciously, urged closer in her sleep – the way she used to, before all of this. ]
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[personal profile] godslay 2019-04-24 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Gamora feels the shift when it happens, but she doesn’t let her eyes open, doesn’t stir. Her breathing stays slow and steady, until Peter (Ego) starts to stir beside her, and she reflexively curls her fingers against his chest. Her nose wrinkles, eyes squeezing shut and then slowly opening, like she’s shaking off the grogginess of a deep sleep. ]

Peter?

[ To her credit, Gamora affects the rough quality of a dry throat, voice thick with half-awareness. ]

What?
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[personal profile] godslay 2019-04-25 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ In the back of her mind, she distantly thinks of how long she’s spent listening to Peter speak – and how little Ego must have cared to do the same.

She turns her face to nuzzle faintly into his wrist. ]


Are you sure?

[ She drops a kiss on the heel of his hand, dark, hazy eyes watching him in the low light. ]
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[personal profile] godslay 2019-04-25 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's strange, how distinctly she notices the way Ego avoids her scars – imperfections, measurements of mortality and weakness – while Peter had always been reverent with them. She didn't understand (still doesn't, really) why he'd trace them so diligently, but somehow, Peter had loved those marked parts of her as much as he did the stretches of unblemished skin.

But she can feel Ego's thumb skirt under the gouges in her face, the stark silver under green.

Sweetheart.

Her stomach turns, but her soft and perfectly drowsy smile stays in place. She nods sleepily, reaching up to hold Ego's palm to her cheek. ]


You should get back to sleep, too. You need it.