[ She tenses briefly as his palm settles on her waist, but then she goes where she's led, melting into Peter without protest. The hand poised to smash into his stomach winds around his back, holding herself to him as she keeps gripping his shirt.
She doesn't speak, if only because she doesn't want to draw attention to this, to how she's allowing herself to be swept away in the crushing weight of her dream, of how real it had been. Instead of some nebulous, dramatic nightmare that played moments on repeat with a filter-like quality, everything had been so clear and solid, and—
Seeing her mother—
Her teeth clench around the hitch in her breathing, and Gamora pulls him closer, hides her face in his shirt.
no subject
She doesn't speak, if only because she doesn't want to draw attention to this, to how she's allowing herself to be swept away in the crushing weight of her dream, of how real it had been. Instead of some nebulous, dramatic nightmare that played moments on repeat with a filter-like quality, everything had been so clear and solid, and—
Seeing her mother—
Her teeth clench around the hitch in her breathing, and Gamora pulls him closer, hides her face in his shirt.
"In a minute."
She just... she just needs a minute. ]