[ Gamora doesn't pull away as his fingers find her hair, that softer smile still in place. There's that warmth in her chest again, and tentative as the touch may be, she's come to realize she likes when Peter reaches out to her. She appreciates the respect he affords her, always giving her a choice, but there's also something oddly reassuring about the fact that he doesn't treat her like a weapon, like something dangerous that's liable to snap his neck at a moment's notice.
He treats her like a person.
(A skilled warrior, but a person nonetheless.) ]
Yes, like that.
[ She sets aside her nearly-empty mug, readjusting the way she sits against him. ]
Here, you're going to lose the blanket, Peter.
[ Reaching across his chest, she takes the edge of their cover, drawing it more closely around them both to beat out the cold air. ]
no subject
He treats her like a person.
(A skilled warrior, but a person nonetheless.) ]
Yes, like that.
[ She sets aside her nearly-empty mug, readjusting the way she sits against him. ]
Here, you're going to lose the blanket, Peter.
[ Reaching across his chest, she takes the edge of their cover, drawing it more closely around them both to beat out the cold air. ]