Lines | Guardians of the Galaxy |

Chapter Twenty-Two

The fox wasn't sleeping.

Her sides rose and fell evenly, with deep, controlled breathing. She had her back to the world and she was under her blankets, the way that it was expected her to be, rather than on top of them, curled into a tight, tight ball.

Avenna had sworn she'd talk to them later, then left to climb into her bunk. She did not cry anymore, even though she didn't feel as though she was quite finished. She was simply too tired.

It weighed down on her fragile tail and caused her ears to droop flat against her head. It caused her limbs to feel heavy and stiff. Made her move slowly and lethargically.

She was left alone. Drax came in and tried to talk to her but Quill and Gamora dragged him away. She needed to be by herself if she were to rein her feelings in, which had run completely wild, although she appreciated the fact that he had attempted to come and comfort her in the way she would him.

The fox pulled in another deep, clear breath. She didn't know how long she'd been lying here, but she was in a kind of half awake, half asleep state, in which she was still getting rest but she was still aware of the environment around her. It was a method of which her truly animal relatives practiced.

Her ears rotated slightly as she heard the door to the sleeping quarters open and then shut with a gentle, almost silent click. She didn't need to turn her head to know who it was; her nose twitched and she inhaled the scent of metal, grease, and a smaller, more comforting, familiar one.

Rocket stepped over to the bed. She could feel his gaze on what little was exposed of her fur, just her head and the tip of her tail. Her ears rotated a few times as he sat down on the edge of the bed. His light weight hardly caused him to sink into the mattress.

"Avenna?" His voice came as a low whisper, uncharacteristically sad and quiet.

She didn't reply, but pulled herself into a slightly more conscious state, feeling her heart begin to beat in her chest.

"I know you're awake." He called her out. She nearly flinched when she felt one of his hands rest upon her shoulder. "Avenna... I'm so—" his voice cracked. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

She was listening.

"I don't know if you're... I'm sorry if you're not ready to talk about it. I think—I don't know. But I screwed up real bad. I—" he let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not going to keep groveling around and apologizing. But I—please forgive me. That's... all I can ask. I shouldn't have said that, it was real stupid. I wouldn't ever sell you."

There was a long silence that dragged on and Avenna had to strain not to give in, to sit up, hug him, and say that it was alright. For her to beg for things to go back to normal, where their budding relationship made her happier than she'd been in so very long, even if it was unspoken. She wanted to be held by him.

The thought shocked her. In all honestly, she had never much been one for physical affection; it wasn't something she'd grown up with, and in her experience, anything physical was bad, violent. Some of the few times she'd been willing to offer a kind touch to someone was with Drax, who she touched quite frequently—when she rode atop his shoulders, when he stroked his massive fingers through her soft fur, or when she fell asleep on his lap. Then there was that hug that she gave Rocket before leaving to fight Ronan.

Was that the last time she'd been touched in a kind manner? She couldn't remember.

She heard Rocket swallow. "Right," he said, and his voice was suspiciously shaky. "I'll just... I'll go."

The bed creaked slightly as he stood up. She listened to him turn around, then threw the blanket off of herself.

"Rocket." She only had to say the word once and he turned around, his dark, dark eyes misty.