She carries him like he weighs nothing, cradling him in her arms the way his mom used to when he fell asleep in her bed.
Gamora would have liked his mom. His mom would have liked Gamora too.
Peter feels the soft cushioning of his mattress. He hates his bed on Knowhere, it doesn’t smell like her the way their bunk on the Benatar did. Doesn’t help that the others bought a new ship free of Gamora’s memory.
She brushes the back of her hand against his cheek and he knows she’ll leave soon, she never stays long. He reaches out to grab her arm as if his touch could anchor her to this reality.
“I love you G’mora…” He murmurs, and he can see her smiling at him. She had the prettiest smile in the galaxy.
“I love you too Peter, more than anything.” There’s a warm press of lips to his forehead, a delicate but deadly hand carding through the locks of his hair.
“Don’t go,” A final plea. Peter’s never been quite able to move past the bargaining stage of grief. This is his least favorite part, it always means she’ll be gone again at any moment.
“You know I have to,” Gamora isn’t smiling anymore. She’s barely there, flickering in and out of existence like a dying star. At least she doesn’t vanish in an explosion of bubbles anymore. Peter watches as she disappears, wishing he could follow her into the darkness.
He wakes up hours later with the lingering taste of cheap Xandarian beer still on his tongue, his head pounding, and his heart still lost with Gamora back on Vormir.