Her body ached. That was Gamora’s first realization. It wasn’t just a soreness that seeped into her bones, but a gnawing pain in her abdomen and crawling ache that gripped her spine and chest, her head feeling as if it would explode. She remembered…the stadium. High-rising seats filled with the shouts of those that wanted to see her dead. This time may not be her own, but her sins followed her all the same. And these people would see her pay for them with her blood.
Fighters came one after the other, sometimes in groups, and Gamora was given no quarter, not even a moment’s breath. She held out pretty well, She was, after all, a daughter of Thanos, and his favorite at that. The fighting stretched into forever until the smell of blood hung thick in the air and dripped from her stolen blades.
However they got there, she wasn’t sure, but one moment she was alone and the in the next several others stood at her side. No one ever stood by her side. At one point she’d been pressed back to back with the one named Quill, another moment by Nebula’s side, and they faced the tide together. Eventually, she’d taken a blown too hard and—
Gamora bolted up, ready to defend herself from any would-be assailants, but the only one within reach was Quill. He was sleeping by her bedside. That didn’t have time to register to Gamora before he suffered a blow to the head for the crime of sleeping near a woman constantly on edge.
Since the Guardians had brought Gamora to the ship, Peter hovered around her anxiously--unsure of what to do with himself. Mantis had done her best to assure him Gamora would be alright when she saw his face drawn with worry, but she knew just as well as the others that nothing anyone said or tried to do would ease Quill's restlessness. And they were right. Nothing did--
Uncertain silence hung heavy between them; Rocket was the first to leave Gamora's room, mumbling something about somebody needing to pilot their rig. Drax followed close behind him with Mantis hot on his heels. But Nebula stayed a short while longer, holding her arms across her chest while Peter pulled up a stool and sat down, pressing his elbows into his knees and rubbing his hands down his face tiredly.
--And then she was gone, just as quietly as she'd come, knowing her sister was in good hands,
And it was true. Gamora was. However, after everybody cleared the room, the weight of the day's battle hit Quill all at once; exhaustion sunk deep into his bones as minutes bled into hours and he’d done his best to stave it off. But as he listened for any irregularities in Gamora's long, even breaths, Peter couldn't help but close his eyes and gently lay his head against the edge of her mattress--sneaking one of his hands beneath Gamora’s in search of--something familiar, warm--something lost--for just one moment. ...One second--
Or until he catches a well-placed elbow to the face.
The blow Gamora delivered was hard enough to send him falling backward off his seat with an undignified yelp--his skull bouncing off the floor as he lands on his back leaving him momentarily dazed. It took him a moment to fully register what just happened. A surprise attack? No--
"You----you're awake." Quill murmured, surprised (and only mildly disoriented). His voice was strained and sleep-laden yet oddly relieved in spite of the pain he was in. It took several moments for the gunslinger to push himself up onto his palms with a grimace. "I really should've seen that coming," he touched a tentative hand against the mark blooming across his brow and laughed to himself half-heartedly, pulling his hand away from his face to see if she'd somehow drawn blood.
She hadn't. But even if she had, that wouldn't change the way he regarded Gamora so----fondly when he finally raised his head to look at her.
"I never thought I---I mean, I don't know why I... It's good to see you again."
dededos
prguitarman
romaincrisis
gummygunk
discoholicmusic
stormborns
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
