nostalgiabomb: (166)
Peter Quill ([personal profile] nostalgiabomb) wrote in [community profile] citylogs 2023-07-17 02:05 am (UTC)

[ She practically storms in ahead of him, and he brings up both hands to scrub his face.

This. This is going so, so badly.

And why shouldn't it? It's not exactly as though there's a playbook for this situation. "How to Deal with Mourning the Death of Your Girlfriend for Years, Trying to Get Past It, and Finding Her Alive and Well: A Primer."

But the longer her waits, the worse it'll get, so he follows in after her.

It's a modest little grocery store – not one of the gigantic ones he's seen recently, that sprawl across the place and incongruously sell patio sets and barbecues and giant pool floats. He had planned on picking up ingredients for the pasta his step-grandmother showed him how to make. He still probably will.

They walk in silence for a few seconds that feel like an eternity, and he clears his throat quietly. ]


I'm— sorry. For earlier.

[ Recently-earlier, he means. Not years-ago earlier, though he could very easily slip back into that topic. ]

I thought you were someone else.

[ ... which must sound ridiculous, now that he's said it aloud. ]

Just— a lot of stuff happened. After.

[ And he doesn't feel the need to expound further on what "after" means, even if it's pulling a lot of weight. ]

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