[ Gamora is stunning. Gorgeous. But anyone with eyes could see that much for themselves. Even bared as she is, his opinion on that front doesn't change, but something sweet twists in him, knowing that she trusts him enough for this, to be this exposed.
His fingertips trace the hard, deep line of one of her scars, the silver glinting in the light of their apartment, and—
They're pretty. He's always found them pretty ever since they first met, even if he knows now that the reason why she has them is awful. They're a part of her as much as anything else, and in quieter moments, he finds himself tracing those scars on her cheek and brow with his eyes, and in more recent days, with his fingertips.
At her prompting, he glances up at her and puts on a flirty, sly smile. ]
Gimme a sec, here. I'm trying to admire a masterpiece.
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His fingertips trace the hard, deep line of one of her scars, the silver glinting in the light of their apartment, and—
They're pretty. He's always found them pretty ever since they first met, even if he knows now that the reason why she has them is awful. They're a part of her as much as anything else, and in quieter moments, he finds himself tracing those scars on her cheek and brow with his eyes, and in more recent days, with his fingertips.
At her prompting, he glances up at her and puts on a flirty, sly smile. ]
Gimme a sec, here. I'm trying to admire a masterpiece.