[ He steps back again in the face of her anger, her frustration, both hands lifted up in the near universal sign for don't shoot.
He's not sure how much he can say, here. And even if no one else seems to be in the store with them, at the moment, he isn't entirely sure if he wants to do this in public. He's going to sound like he's out of his goddamn mind once he gets into the story.
(He thinks he might've been, actually. Out of his mind, that is. Just for a little while. Racked with guilt and grief and regret and heartbreak and a roiling, directionless rage. It's why Nebula had to step up while he fell back.)
He takes another breath, hands still up in a gesture of surrender, like he's asking her to not maim the messenger. ]
A lot of shit happened.
[ He means it as an explanation – and he hopes desperately it doesn't just sound like an excuse. ]
Can you just— stop talking to me like you wanna rip my head off? For two minutes?
no subject
He's not sure how much he can say, here. And even if no one else seems to be in the store with them, at the moment, he isn't entirely sure if he wants to do this in public. He's going to sound like he's out of his goddamn mind once he gets into the story.
(He thinks he might've been, actually. Out of his mind, that is. Just for a little while. Racked with guilt and grief and regret and heartbreak and a roiling, directionless rage. It's why Nebula had to step up while he fell back.)
He takes another breath, hands still up in a gesture of surrender, like he's asking her to not maim the messenger. ]
A lot of shit happened.
[ He means it as an explanation – and he hopes desperately it doesn't just sound like an excuse. ]
Can you just— stop talking to me like you wanna rip my head off? For two minutes?