[ She's tired, but she still sees the awkward hitch, the way he pauses. It's why she wasn't sure if she should ask at all, because she knows how complicated this is. She knows that she's effectively turned Peter's life inside out, and she knows that— in so many ways, Peter doesn't have a choice. Gamora can't take any of this back, can't undo how he's spiraled into being part of this, no matter how much she regrets that he's become tangled in her life's web.
But he's also the reason why there's a way out potentially on her horizon. She hasn't found a tangible escape yet, and she's been trying and trying for longer than she can remember. She owes him more than she can say – if only because the words are foreign and ashy on her tongue.
She nods, again combing through her hair, gently working out knots. ]
If you're sure.
[ She's not worried about her injury, really, especially since Peter sleeps (or has slept?) on her opposite side. ]
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But he's also the reason why there's a way out potentially on her horizon. She hasn't found a tangible escape yet, and she's been trying and trying for longer than she can remember. She owes him more than she can say – if only because the words are foreign and ashy on her tongue.
She nods, again combing through her hair, gently working out knots. ]
If you're sure.
[ She's not worried about her injury, really, especially since Peter sleeps (or has slept?) on her opposite side. ]
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I'd rather not accidentally punch you in the side in my sleep.
I can crash on the couch.
[ And he nods toward the living room, rather than the chaise he had fallen asleep on last night. ]
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At least it's a comfortable couch.
[ And it should be, since it probably costs something wholly unreasonable. ]
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Considering the state of my bed back home, anything would be more comfortable. I could sleep on the floor and probably be happy.
[ He sets the towel aside, rubbing at the back of his neck. ]
You need a hand with anything?
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[ It's a more genuine "fine" than before, if only because she can't think for herself what else she might need. ]
If I don't wake on my own, come get me when they bring breakfast.
[ ... It's supposed to sound like a request, but Gamora isn't great with those. ]
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(So, what, he's downgraded from fucktoy to servant, now?)
Then, ]
Yeah. Okay.
[ A little blandly.
He retrieves his phone, his Walkman, and a blanket before heading toward the living room. He pauses, in the doorway, turning back to her. ]
Just shout if you need anything, I guess.