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Language:
English
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Published:
2019-09-02
Words:
700
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
6
Kudos:
33
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1
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718

Enjoy the silence

Summary:

“How about this one?” Gamora interrupts his rambling with a smirk.

Notes:

A short fiction inspired by Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the silence" (even though it is not music from the 80s).
Hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 “…And I can’t believe how it’s changed! I mean, I’ve been away, what, ‘bout thirty years? There’s tons of new genres and styles and – I mean, the classics are still the greatest, but even so. And this tiny thing! There used to be cassettes with twenty, thirty songs tops, you’ve seen my walkman, and you would have to rewind them and the tape would get out, so you needed a pencil – But this thing, it has hundreds of songs an-”

“How about this one?” Gamora interrupts his rambling with a smirk, selecting a track before holding up the Zune for him to see.

Peter’s eyes focus on the title, then narrow slightly. “Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replies in an offended tone. He listens intently as the first notes start playing and considers for a moment before saying, “Actually, I haven’t heard this one yet.”

 

A gentle melody introduces the song. Peter takes off an auricular and carefully tucks it into Gamora’s ear, brushing away her silky hair. His hands find hers, the right grabbing the Zune and slipping it in his pocket, the left reaching at her side, both leading her fingers to entwine behind his neck and then sliding slowly to her hips.

“Dance with me,” he whispers.

Gamora’s lips part to protest, but the lyrics begin playing and Peter gives her a mockingly admonishing look, silently daring her to act so hypocritically. With an eyeroll she closes her mouth in resignation, earning a complacent grin.

They sway gently, timing their movements with the synthesizer that almost sounds like a choir rather than with the drums. A few bars and all smugness has already left Peter’s expression, replaced by a tender look which makes Gamora very aware of their proximity. His eyes bore deep into hers, his fingers ghosting a pattern over her tingling skin.

 

All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here, in my arms

 

A faint redness rises to Peter’s cheeks, certainly reflected on Gamora’s, judging from the burning sensation. She had not realized the song would feel so relevant and… intimate. She lowers her gaze, fixing it on Peter’s collar, his neck, his accelerated pulse – Taking a breath, she tries to focus on the music instead, on the instruments harmoniously complementing each other. Yet how can she ignore the lyrics, talking about the meaninglessness and forgettability of words, suggesting the perfection of an unspoken thing… their unspoken thing.

She feels Peter’s grip tightening slightly, pulling her closer, and finds herself embracing him. His heart – or is it her own? –  thunders against her chest, his body warm and solid against hers. Their rhythm is much slower than the song, but they are hardly paying attention anymore.

The refrain echoes again, followed by an instrumental interlude, and then again, words vibrating smooth and deep as an ocean.

“…here, in my arms,” Peter’s melodious whisper grazes her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Gamora leans back, without breaking the embrace, just enough to lightly press a finger against his lips. He blinks at the unexpected gesture, then his bright eyes focus on hers with an intensity that pierces her soul. This time, she does not look away. Her finger glides away slowly, her palm falling flat on his chest. Her left hand gently curls at the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. Almost subconsciously, she pulls at him. Their foreheads touch, breaths mingling and becoming erratic, as Peter’s arms slide up her back and his fingers tangle in her locks.

His lips part, he swallows, and she knows he is about to say something. He will try to joke or make a Terran reference or tell her he cares for her. But this is not the time for words.

 

Before any sound can escape Peter’s mouth, Gamora’s lips are on his, warm and soft and erasing every thought. He pulls her even nearer, desperately closing the distance between them, trying to relish every instant of the kiss, almost unable to believe that it is not a fantasy.

But Gamora is fiery and loving and ardent, and all Peter can do is revel in her passion.

 

Maybe, after all, there is no need to speak.

Notes:

I would love your comments! Thank you for reading this!