So...this is taking part in the Show Me the Love Summer Challenge. And I thought, since when I wrote a story for it in February, I focused on person & pet love, I thought I'd be difference again. And so in this case, this story is about love that will not work. And...yeah, it's Peter Quill and Gamora. I really wanted to show their relationship and thoughts. Honestly, I hope I got everything correct. As in like, what they would say and actions because sincerely, I didn't like Guardians of the Galaxy that much when it first came out. And the characters - in my opinion - where fairly hard. :)
I do realize everyone else's stories are happy and father's day like...I didnt think about that...oops?
I'll stop ranting now; without further a do here is the story:
It was quiet. Too quiet.
There was no usual clanking of metal against the metal floor as Rocket worked on some crazy bomb-looking weapon. Peter Quill wasn't playing music as he piloted the space craft to wherever they were flying to. Neither Mantis nor Drax were dragging on about some odd topic. Gamora was simply sharpening a weapon with Groot aimlessly playing on the chair next to her.
And space. Man, was there a lot of space. It filled the glass view in front of everyone - whether it be from a window or the windshield. Blank, large space was everywhere. Colors swirled together, creating shades that didn't even look possible. You could almost say there was glitter sprinkled in the galaxy. It stretched on forever. The sun glistened in the distance and near by planets looked like they were blossoming from no-where. It was truly amazing to just look out in the distance and wonder what other galaxies were up to.
And so on they sat in pure silence. The humming started soon after. If I was to say that eventually the crew got up and danced to the best of their own drum, I'd be lying. This isn't some fairy tale.
"Quill!" Rocket's voice basically tore through the now broken silence aboard the ship - and most likely the vast space outside the ship, too. "Shut up, will ya?"
Quill's response wasn't much more civilized than Rocket's; he simply started to sing. The lyrics pored from his mouth and echoed through the otherwise quiet ship. And he would have keep singing of it weren't for the certain familiar gorgeous green face peeking around the corner on the rear view mirror. He took in a deep breath.
Oh, boy, was Gamora fierce. It just glowed off of her; the sass in her steps, her heavenly voice - even when Quill himself was being threatened by it - her glorious hair. The list could go on forever.
Quill kept telling himself that she cared. He really wanted to believe that she was falling for him just as he had for her. But maybe not as hard because she'd potentially die from it. No matter how many times he tried to awkwardly win her heart, something got in the way. Whether it be another member of the team, or the galaxy was holding on to humanity by a thread, she always managed to flutter from his grasp.
Gamora leaned against the door frame, pulling out a seemingly large wrench from her back pocket. It crashed as she tossed it on the cluttered table in front of her. The bang echoed through out the ship.
Rocket's voice followed shortly after. "I didn't hear no scream!" he said.
Quill spun around in confusion due to the sudden bang and quickly shifted in the seat when he saw Gamora, not looking off a mirror.
"Rocket wanted me to throw that at you for singing so badly," informed Gamora.
Quill shrugged. "And you aren't doing it...why?" He watched out of the corner of his eye as the co-pilot seat next to him filled as she sat in it.
"I don't think it'll do as much damage as it should."
"Oh?"
"And..." she slowly let her voice fade out, a grin tugging at her lips. Quill let his imagination try to figure out what the end of her sentence would be. "I wouldn't want the ship to crash."
Oh, boy was he off.
Quill cleared his throat. "A-ah, yeah, of course, the ship," he stuttered.
He clicked the Autopilot button and turned to face Gamora. The ship was still on track for now. That's when he saw her eyebrow shoot up in question. Man, he was so see-through; so similar to a piece of glass to her. Was it that obvious to tell what he was actually thinking?
"No," she blurted out of no-where.
Quill continued to attempt to play cool. "No, what?"
"You know what," said Gamora. "No, there's no thoughts about you in my head. I'm not-"
Quill's head literally spun. Ugh, she was such a struggle to even talk with...but he loved that. He loved everything about her. He looked left, then right before cutting off Gamora. "You're so two-faced! I wasn't even thinking about you," he lied, "although now..." A smile slapped its way onto Quill's mouth until Gamora wiped it off.
Her words were basically like knives to him. They hurt, oh for sure, but it was a step up; at least a female voluntarily talked to him. And he honestly believed he was getting somewhere with his quips and awkward flirty ways. But she didn't have the same thoughts.
"I pity your dirty mind."
"Whadda'I do?" he slurred, standing up and pacing around the room. He placed his palms on the table where the wrench was located. "I thought I was good at baseball but turns out I can't even reach second base."
The silence returned. Quill was completely sure that everyone else on the ship stopped what they were doing just to listen in on this uneventful talk. He needed something to take his mind off of the problem at hand - to think about something other than his feelings. His eyes fluttered to the circular window. The outside space filled his vision. A world beyond anyone's reach entered his eyes.
He blinked slowly and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I'm sorry," Gamora continued out of no-where. "I just fear the inevitable is taking place."
"What now?"
She shrugged him off, implying it was not a big deal. Clearly it was if it was bothering Gamora as much as it seemed to. She stood up and walked to the other end of the table. They looked in each others eyes. The mood was basically killed - not that it was very good in the first place.
"If it's about your family," Quill quietly started, his eyes slowly lowering until he stared at his feet, "I was raised by Ravagers, I think I'll be good."
Gamora waved it off this time. "Never mind it," she said, her eyes closed gently as she spoke. "We are all a little shaken up from the events of the past."
Quill had no idea what that was supposed to mean but it didn't matter; an opportunity struck. He started to speak soft, quiet words. Lyrics. He tried to make it sound right, tried to make the song worth listening to. And you would never believe what happened next: Gamora started to hum. Music just sooths you soul, hm?
Quill cocked his head to the side, as if to ask, You know this song?
She nodded. Quill wondered if he played his mix tapes a little too often.
And they continued to let the music flow. She connected every high note smoothly to the low notes. By her facial expressions, she seemed to be having fun. So Quill didn't stop singing. He smiled and the lyrics felt warm as he let them out of his mouth. His heart was happy. He wished life was always like this little moments. Together, they looked like a pair. A duet - two peas in a pod.
Quill was about to reach for her hand to dance when it all went downhill. The front of the ship started beeping. Immediately, both their heads turned to look. Quill clumsily slid over the cluttered table to the control panel and plopped into the driver's seat. All good things must come to an end.
"What in the name of..." he trailed off, taking in the enormous objects. "Hey, guys?" he yelled. There was no reply - as expected, so he continued. "Buckle up, I think there's another asteroid belt or something."
Once again, Gamora filed in the seat next to Quill. Seconds later, the rest of the group jumped into seats behind the pair.
"Let me steer," Rocket said, clicking his seat belt on. "I'm the better pilot."
Quill rolled his eyes. "It's my ship, I think I'll be-"
He jerked the ship left but it was too late. A louder horn noise filled their ears followed by a sudden slam of glass to their right. A small asteroid had broken through a window. The hole needed to get filled before there was no air left.
"It appears something hit us," Drax deadpanned.
"Thanks, Captain Obvious," replied Quill.
Drax claimed he wasn't a captain, but Quill wasn't listening. He slapped a big red button on the control panel and the ship went silent. He told himself not to flip out and scream for bloody murder. He didn't want to suddenly breath in all the air as he got nervous. People were depending on him. He stood up.
"Rocket," he started, "pilot the ship." Rocket snickered and Quill spoke again. "Gamora, come with me; we gotta hole to fill."
Quill slammed another button set to shut a airlock door between the hole and the rest of the team. He grabbed Gamora's hand and took off before the door completely closed in ten seconds. He clicked the side of his head; his helmet engulfed his face. He tossed one to Gamora and she covered her own head.
They could breath and the rest of the crew was safe and has plenty of air
In a heap of limbs, they slid under the closing door just in time to make it to the other side. The hole was slightly bigger than a golf ball. It was sucking dust towards it. Quill pulled the duck tape from his pocket and covered it up over and over again. He put his pointer and thumb together, sticking the other fingers out and kissed the two touching, like an Italian chief just finished a perfect dish. Just as he finished, Gamora stood extremely close to him, examining the cheep excuse for a fixed hole - presumably also to tell him how brave and smart he was - when the ship veered right.
And they both fell. Not to mention the fact that Gamora was now on top of Quill. There was no space between them; they could feel the other's heart beating only centimeters away.
"Well, hello, there," Quill started, grinning as he unclicked the mask from his face. "Star-Lord, at your service."
Gamora took the helmet of her own off. Next she hoisted herself off of Quill's chest and stood up. Before Quill could get up himself, her hand was knocking on the airlock door.
"Open up, Rocket - the hole's fixed."
You could hear the snickering from the other side of the metal door. "Let me just fly us for a sec," he replied, turning down the offer.
Quill slowly stood up and Gamora continued to bicker to the people on the other side of the door. He looked outside and noticed all the asteroids were gone now. That seemed to be a good sign. But now him and Gamora were basically stuck in a room together...and she looked mad.
What was there to be mad about, though? He basically just saved everyone's life.
Gamora turned around. "Was this your plan?" she asked. "Make the damage look like an accident and Rocket will lock us in here for what - a fun game?
"I'm only here to save the world."
For just about the first time in his life, Quill said nothing. He was stunned at her true reasons. He though those times where the team was down in the dumps meant something. There must of been a reason she said that they were all family. So that's what he said; he questioned her reasonings back when they all thought they could've died and stood up in a circle.
It was Gamora's turn to be shocked to the bone. She recovered quickly and spit out an answer. "It was a pooor choice of words, Peter," she claimed, turning her head slightly to the left and then at the floor. She started to make a slow hand movement.
"What did you really mean then? That you don't love me?"
Gamora stuttered.
"I know that," Quill continued. "I know you don't love me and I know it wouldn't work, but I love you and I'd do anything for you." He slapped the table and clenched his teeth together. "God, now I sound so cheesey.
"And I bet you just want me to shut up." Quill snorted an awkward laugh. "I want that, too." Pause. "So let's just forget this happened and I'll move on - hopefully."
He knocked on the airlock door and requested it to open. Due to voice command, the door slowly slid upwards. All of the other members had their ear up against the door, listening. Quill's head was down as he shuffled back to the pilot seat and plopped on it.
Drax patted his back a little too hard in empathy and Rocket threw in a, "Life's rough, man."
Gamora stood in the room still. She kept glancing at the broken glass laying scatter on the floor, crushed. She tried to look up at Peter but his face was hard and glancing forward. So she looked outside and she wondered when the time would finally be right. Right to tell Quill know how wrong he actually was and how sorry she is. Right to finally be...herself.
Quill sat where it began. His fingers glided across the keys and buttons. He stared off into the glorious space taking up his whole view. Maybe, he thought, that's what I need: some space.
Okay, so maybe it sounded better in my head? But here I am, editing it and creating the book cover while I listen to music...so... If the end seemed to be a bit confusing, it's supposed to be like that. I wanted you to almost connect what Gamora was talking about and such. But I'm not so sure if I came off that way or if you guys will understand it completely.
Anyways, I probably made the characters cringe-worthy unlike themselves. Either way, here's the story. I procrastinated a bit and had to quickly think of ways to flesh out my idea of how I wanted it to end. And I'm gonna be really busy so I thought I'd get it out now.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Sorry if it seemed...off? or if you're getting the vibe that I have no faith in myself. I do, just not a lot in this story.
(:
