[ Something in her warms as she settles against Peter, allowing his arm around her without a hint of protest. She's become far more comfortable with physical contact (in the right moments, with the right people), and she doesn't even tense with the expectation of a fight, doesn't prepare to defend herself, because in a twist of fate that still startles her, Peter doesn't inspire the instinct in her. At least, not anymore. She doesn't feel like she has to prepare herself to throw him to the ground at a moment's notice, and she thinks that means that she— feels safe.
What a strange turn her life has taken.
She tilts her face towards him for a brief instant, letting her nose press lightly against his chest, and then she turns her eyes skyward to enjoy the last of the flowers' light. ]
Thank you for coming with me.
[ Gamora doesn't necessarily do blatant gratitude, considering "pleases" and "thank yous" are not high on her list of priorities, but she finds she genuinely means "thank you" now. He took this time to step away from an event he was clearly enjoying, and he's chosen to spend it with her instead.
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What a strange turn her life has taken.
She tilts her face towards him for a brief instant, letting her nose press lightly against his chest, and then she turns her eyes skyward to enjoy the last of the flowers' light. ]
Thank you for coming with me.
[ Gamora doesn't necessarily do blatant gratitude, considering "pleases" and "thank yous" are not high on her list of priorities, but she finds she genuinely means "thank you" now. He took this time to step away from an event he was clearly enjoying, and he's chosen to spend it with her instead.
That means something to her. ]