Nebula | Quill
"Just remember to brush later," Peter advised, but clearly seemed smug about being right.
They hadn't had much time after, that was true. They'd stuck on Earth for a little bit, just to make sure everything was settled and to go a funeral or two. Which was -- it'd been a little weird, maybe. And while Peter had been sad and sorry about Stark, he had to admit that his mind had been other places since Gamora had disappeared. He knew Nebula had felt similarly.
They hadn't traveled long, or even gotten all that far before Peter'd shown up here. He didn't know how this dimensional stuff worked, but he had to wonder if there was another him still flying the universe looking for Gamora, or what? Nebula had gotten here first, and she'd been with him on the Benatar still, too.
"What?" He asked, pulling himself away from a bizarre case of existentialism. "Intend? Jeez, you make it sound like I'm plotting for evil over here. I'm not..." he squinted a little, thinking about it. It'd make sense to blow someone off who asked stuff like that, but this was Nebula and she cared about Gamora as much as he did. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I just want her to like me."
Well, no. He wanted her to love him. But he'd settled for like. That would be fine, just so long as she was alive.