[It's annoying, like saying calm down, because she's made no move to harm him. Might have threatened to at times, and justly so, but she's never actually sought him real harm. Even in the beginning, it had been about getting the Stone and getting away. Feminine wiles to begin with, but when that hadn't work, she would have been fine with immobilizing him.
They've had their spats, their little arguments, but her last words to him still hold true. Less time for her, and that's the maddening part. There's something, but neither one has come out and said it. Perhaps she should have dug at Nebula more. Perhaps she should have just let it go. Had she known this would happen, she would have. She'd thought she had time, more time to try to sort things out, to work out the emotions that threatened to drown her. She'd once said I have spent most of my life surrounded by my enemies. I will be grateful to die among my friends. She hadn't though. The man who had raised her, trained her, made her efficient at what she did, who used her like a weapon for his goals, who she had hated with every core of her being, had been the one to preside.
It almost slips past her mouth, almost, that if she wanted to rip his head off, she would have. Yet she bites her tongue. Bites back the retort, and that mask slips on. A void blankness, one she's learned throughout the years. Of all the hells... Three years, five years, eight years, they are all still years that she won't have, and as vast as that distance between them had once seemed in the beginning, it seems even larger now. It's like the grounds crumbling beneath her feet and she doesn't know the best move to make. There's probably something a little foolish with it, holding an pair of bananas in her hand, as her eyes drop, that stewing simmering air.]
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They've had their spats, their little arguments, but her last words to him still hold true. Less time for her, and that's the maddening part. There's something, but neither one has come out and said it. Perhaps she should have dug at Nebula more. Perhaps she should have just let it go. Had she known this would happen, she would have. She'd thought she had time, more time to try to sort things out, to work out the emotions that threatened to drown her. She'd once said I have spent most of my life surrounded by my enemies. I will be grateful to die among my friends. She hadn't though. The man who had raised her, trained her, made her efficient at what she did, who used her like a weapon for his goals, who she had hated with every core of her being, had been the one to preside.
It almost slips past her mouth, almost, that if she wanted to rip his head off, she would have. Yet she bites her tongue. Bites back the retort, and that mask slips on. A void blankness, one she's learned throughout the years. Of all the hells... Three years, five years, eight years, they are all still years that she won't have, and as vast as that distance between them had once seemed in the beginning, it seems even larger now. It's like the grounds crumbling beneath her feet and she doesn't know the best move to make. There's probably something a little foolish with it, holding an pair of bananas in her hand, as her eyes drop, that stewing simmering air.]