[ As she moves in, he lifts an arm, giving her a little more space. When she seems settled, he wraps his arm around her shoulder – just resting there, rather than pulling her in. If she wanted to be closer, she would have placed herself there to start, or she'll move in of her own accord.
They'll talk it through, one of these days. Just— there hasn't been a good time, he reasons. After the mess, after winding up here, with the two of them still trying to find their footing in this new place, it's not like he could throw, "Hey, you wanna be, like, an item?" into the mix in good conscience.
So this is fine, he thinks. Gamora, warm against his side, comfortable and at ease. He wants more, because Peter is selfish and greedy even at the best of times. He wishes Gamora would say something, whenever he makes those little overtures, but he's trying to temper his disappointment when she doesn't. He's trying to learn patience, too, trying to learn how to bide his time and wait for the right moment.
It's gotta be a good sign that she's not avoiding him; something must be working.
His looks up at the trees again, the glow of the flowers fading and fading. It reminds Peter a little of those glow in the dark stars he used to put on his bedroom ceiling, and he feels his smile widen a little with that faint bloom of nostalgia. ]
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They'll talk it through, one of these days. Just— there hasn't been a good time, he reasons. After the mess, after winding up here, with the two of them still trying to find their footing in this new place, it's not like he could throw, "Hey, you wanna be, like, an item?" into the mix in good conscience.
So this is fine, he thinks. Gamora, warm against his side, comfortable and at ease. He wants more, because Peter is selfish and greedy even at the best of times. He wishes Gamora would say something, whenever he makes those little overtures, but he's trying to temper his disappointment when she doesn't. He's trying to learn patience, too, trying to learn how to bide his time and wait for the right moment.
It's gotta be a good sign that she's not avoiding him; something must be working.
His looks up at the trees again, the glow of the flowers fading and fading. It reminds Peter a little of those glow in the dark stars he used to put on his bedroom ceiling, and he feels his smile widen a little with that faint bloom of nostalgia. ]
Thanks for bringing me here.