Gamora's eyes slide close for a moment at that sound, her small sigh of relief tucked away beneath it. Reprieve, at least for now. It almost burns, the thought of standing down from the fight she's been entrenched in for weeks now. The thought that maybe this could be truth instead of just another attempt at a trap. That she could slip the noose. Because her thoughts run similar to his. For all that Gamora easily tosses out assurances that she would kill him if he tried her, she has seen enough of him on that battlefield against Thanos and his forces not to actually think of a fight between them as anything short of brutal and potentially lethal even for her. And even if she did survive - the damage someone like him could inflict on her knows few measures.
When her eyes open again, she watches him raise a hand from his cover, then lift his head. Trains the sights on him and watches him through him for a moment. Lets the moment drag. He doesn't duck back down - either very foolish or very good at bluffing.
Or perhaps just... good. Perhaps just honest.
Gamora isn't sure she can believe that.
It's only after that long, drawn out pause that Bucky will hear her safety snap back on as well, almost loud to their kinds of ears in the silence of the warehouse. And then she moves, too. Leaves cover and lets him see her. With the rifle on her back, she's far from unarmed though, and lets him see that her hand is on something on her hip - Godslayer, should he get too close to comfort and make any moves she doesn't like seeing. From his perspective that might as well be a blaster. For now though, she makes eye contact with him.
Gamora is exhausted, and visibly so. Doesn't look like she's slept in far too long. Her sharp features are almost gaunt, and the green skin much less vibrant with the pallor of exhaustion. There's blood spattered on her - and clearly not all of it her own.
"Would you like me to strike you, so you can claim I bested you and slipped out of your grasp? Would that make them let you survive failure?"
It might not sound it at first glance, but she's trying to do him a favour here, is trying to show him honor and help ensure he doesn't suffer punishment for letting her go. It's a messed up way of saying thank you - but the thought counts, right?
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When her eyes open again, she watches him raise a hand from his cover, then lift his head. Trains the sights on him and watches him through him for a moment. Lets the moment drag. He doesn't duck back down - either very foolish or very good at bluffing.
Or perhaps just... good. Perhaps just honest.
Gamora isn't sure she can believe that.
It's only after that long, drawn out pause that Bucky will hear her safety snap back on as well, almost loud to their kinds of ears in the silence of the warehouse. And then she moves, too. Leaves cover and lets him see her. With the rifle on her back, she's far from unarmed though, and lets him see that her hand is on something on her hip - Godslayer, should he get too close to comfort and make any moves she doesn't like seeing. From his perspective that might as well be a blaster. For now though, she makes eye contact with him.
Gamora is exhausted, and visibly so. Doesn't look like she's slept in far too long. Her sharp features are almost gaunt, and the green skin much less vibrant with the pallor of exhaustion. There's blood spattered on her - and clearly not all of it her own.
"Would you like me to strike you, so you can claim I bested you and slipped out of your grasp? Would that make them let you survive failure?"
It might not sound it at first glance, but she's trying to do him a favour here, is trying to show him honor and help ensure he doesn't suffer punishment for letting her go. It's a messed up way of saying thank you - but the thought counts, right?