nostalgiabomb: (002)
Peter Quill ([personal profile] nostalgiabomb) wrote in [community profile] pullmeoutalive 2016-11-01 03:36 am (UTC)

[ He's just drifting off as Alec turns him, and the movement jars him back into consciousness, pulls a strained noise from the back of his throat as he settles onto his back. ]

That hurt.

[ Then, not too long after that, ]

Fuck you.

[ Apparently that's just his instinctual response to Alec, by now; there's little heat behind the words as he dutifully recites them.

But he's awake, mostly, despite every desire to the contrary. He wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, lets his arm fall across his middle. His suit is a fucking mess, and maybe in a little while, he'll mourn its passing. (He liked this suit. He likes everything he wears.) Now, though, it feels restricting, like he can't quite get a good breath of air into his lungs.

Or maybe that's because of that weird, echo of a sensation just behind his sternum. Cold and barbed and yawning with a mouth full of teeth. He brings up both hands to his brow, digs the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees stars.

... Doesn't know what compelled him to do that, though, because that fucking hurt (everything fucking hurts), and he jerks one of his hands away from his face. ]


Shit.

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