[ He freezes the instant she touches him, and he glances up at her, startled and—
Grateful. At least a little. Because if this is fucked up for him, then it's about five million times worse for her, and this Gamora is well within her rights to wash her hands of all this fucking weirdness and take her leave.
He takes a deep breath, scrubbing at his slightly stinging eyes, before he forces himself to pull it together.
[ For a second, he's not entirely sure how to answer that, but at length, he shrugs. ]
Not any harder than anyone else.
[ Though maybe that's more of a commentary on the fact that he's Terran, and not exactly built for a life like this.
He moves to push himself up, but he hesitates for a second. As much as he's pushed, as much as he's fucked up, he still feels like he needs to make sure— ]
You haven't said anything about if you're still cool with staying.
[ Gamora watches him move – mindful of the wound she knows he's still technically nursing. The question gives her a beat of pause, and then she stands, glancing out the viewport again. ]
[ She doesn't feel uncomfortable around Peter, and he hasn't done anything untoward or unwelcome. She's more concerned that she's a painful reminder for him, that he can't see past his grief to allow her the freedom of discovering herself. ]
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Grateful. At least a little. Because if this is fucked up for him, then it's about five million times worse for her, and this Gamora is well within her rights to wash her hands of all this fucking weirdness and take her leave.
He takes a deep breath, scrubbing at his slightly stinging eyes, before he forces himself to pull it together.
Quietly, but still a little hoarse, ]
... Thanks.
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When Peter finally speaks, Gamora nods, slowly drawing her hand away. ]
... You really should be getting some rest.
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Still, he manages to put a bit of humor into his voice: ]
If that's a diplomatic way of asking me to leave, then point taken.
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Not intentionally.
[ And more honestly: ]
I have seen how hard you work.
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Not any harder than anyone else.
[ Though maybe that's more of a commentary on the fact that he's Terran, and not exactly built for a life like this.
He moves to push himself up, but he hesitates for a second. As much as he's pushed, as much as he's fucked up, he still feels like he needs to make sure— ]
You haven't said anything about if you're still cool with staying.
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I'm going to stay.
[ "For now" goes unspoken. ]
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It'll have to do for now.
He doesn't move to leave, though, and he settles again, frowning at her. ]
I know I'm...
[ A hesitation, then, ]
If I make you uncomfortable, I can give you some space.
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No. That's not necessary.
[ She doesn't feel uncomfortable around Peter, and he hasn't done anything untoward or unwelcome. She's more concerned that she's a painful reminder for him, that he can't see past his grief to allow her the freedom of discovering herself. ]
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You can tell me if that changes. I'm not done...
[ Grieving, he tries to say, but somehow it just sounds... clinical, and woefully inaccurate.
He helplessly trails off before he manages to find something slightly on the mark. ]
I'm not over... her. I don't... I don't think that'll change any time soon. And I know that it's—
[ He gestures vaguely. ]
It puts you in a weird position. So if you need space, just... let me know. Or let someone else know, and they can tell me. Whatever works.