aromantically | ( OPEN ) Peter Q

Peter allows himself to lay there and watch her go, sighing to himself as she disappears from the doorway. He holds out hope for five minutes or so, but when he's sure she isn't coming back he forces himself up to get ready for the day. Even though it's the last thing he wants to be doing, Peter finds himself replaying her attack on the ghost by his bed while he's numbly going through his morning routine. Somehow, it's more disturbing than if she had just attacked him the way she warned him she might. But then it's sinking in how she covered him, protecting him from the invisible threat...

It feels like ages later that he makes it down to the galley himself, but it can't be as late as he thinks it is because the others haven't fully descended onto them yet from their separate sects of the ship's bowels. That and he didn't actually expect Gam to still be in the communal area for them to run into one another.

Peter clears his throat softly though he knows there's no real way to sneak up on her, offering a lame little nod when his eyes alight on hers briefly. "We're still going for those trees, right? They sounded real pretty."

She could run away from him before he ever realized she was there. Gamora opts to do the hard thing. The anger has passed by now. The warrior mostly feels humiliated. She can't control the way her mind wanders at night. She never wanted Peter to witness it despite knowing logically his Gamora likely went through the same thing.

She waits for him to enter the space. She's settled on a cheap instant drink that she once enjoyed for breakfast before she was willing to let Peter cook for her. "We can still go." She starts drinking to fill the silence, avoiding any eye contact with him. Finally, she points out: "I warned you."

He's grinning brightly already at her instant acquiescence, biting his lips so as not to completely blind her with the wattage of his smile. Playing it cool is kind of out of the picture, but he still shrugs a shoulder and tries for posterity's sake. "You did," Peter acknowledges, not sure if he's supposed to talk about it or put it behind them. He opts for the latter more out of necessity when he sees her going for that instant space crap. "What are you doing? You know I'll be making everyone else breakfast anyway." It's how he initially talked her into letting him feed her, the pragmatism is harder to argue with than his own bent towards sentimentalism. They all know he puts just a little more love into her meals anyway without him saying anything.

She wants to draw away at that bright smile. It doesn't offend her. The opposite actually: it makes her feel good to be the cause of it. Then she remembers the offensive item she does have in her hand. Gamora, the deadliest woman in the galaxy, scrambles to hide it. She's at a kitchen table so her attempt is mostly looking around for somewhere to stash it, failing, and getting up to throw the instant drink in the fridge.

"I wasn't sure you would today," Gamora weakly argues. She does like his breakfast. She was just sulking. "I'll save it for another time." It'll be undrinkable, but that hardly matters to her. She'll force herself to drink it anyways.

( OPEN ) Peter Q

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