• Stars Align •||• Peter Quill X Female Reader •

Chapter 12 - Initiative

"Why do you always carry that camera around?" Peter asked me about five weeks after I officially joined the Ravagers. I looked at him and placed my chin in my hand, holding my camera in the other. "It was a birthday present. From... my dad," I briefly explained. "I had it on me when I ran away from some people who were trying to take me."
"What happened to your dad?" I flinched at the awful memory. "Sorry, sorry. You told me you're sensitive about that. Forget I asked," he quickly said as he stood up and turned away.

"He was arrested."

His head whirled around, all ears. "I... I don't even know what he did. Maybe he did nothing at all. He told me that I-" I stopped, suddenly remembering Yondu's words about my powers. "He told me my grandfather would pick me up before he was taken away. Then some people in suits showed up, telling me to pack up what I wanted. So I did. I grabbed this camera and I ran away from them." A smile grew on my lips.

His eyes sparkled with wonder. "You ran away from cops before you even became a Ravager. Y/N, that's pretty badass of you," he beamed as he sat down next to me. I chuckled as my eyes trailed down to his belt which was too big for him, where his Walkman was always attached. "What about your Walkman?" I questioned softly.
He pressed his lips together in a straight line, nodding. "You don't have to answer me just 'cause I answered you," I assured. "No, it's fine," he said.

He unhooked his Walkman from his belt, keeping it on his lap. "My mom gave it to me. She'd always share pop songs from her time with me, so she mixed some of them together for me. Before she..." I could see tears well up in his eyes. "She, um... yeah. She's gone. This is all I have left of her besides that gift box she gave me. And I'm too scared to even open it..." I placed my hand on top of his. He tensed up for a second but quickly relaxed and placed his free hand on mine.

"My mom died, too. But she died when I was a baby, so I didn't know her. It's still sad," I mumbled.
"I never knew my dad. He's alive, I think, but he was never around. So I had a picture of David Hasselhoff in my pocket and I'd tell the other kids that he was my dad. I'd say he was out of town, shooting Knight Rider or touring with his band in Germany. And that he'd be back soon." I smiled at his story. It was a sweet story, though it was sad.

I could relate to him better than I could relate to anyone else my age.

"You know, we should take a picture. To mark this moment of us opening up our emotions to each other. Yondu would hate that," I declared, picking my camera up with both of my hands and standing up. "So let's get him to take it for us. He'll never know the context behind it." Peter laughed and stood up with me.

The both of us went out to look for Yondu. Eventually, we found him and got him to take a picture of the two of us. Our arms were around each other, and we smiled wide smiles. Once Yondu began to question why we were so happy, I snatched the photo and camera away. Both of us giggled, and we ran away.

----

I remember this now because of the picture I'm holding. It's the photo from that day. We were so young, so happy. It puts a smile on my face.
"What's up? You're smiling really hard right now." Peter walks into the room, still holding his Walkman on his belt. "I found this," I say, giving the photo to him.

He takes it in his hand and looks at it, a smile growing on his face as well. "I was wondering where this one went," he laughs. "Wow, look at me. I was so small and skinny." He sits down next to me, pointing himself out. "Good for thievin','" I tell him, mimicking Yondu's voice.

As soon as our laughter starts, it stops. It sinks in that this moment may be the last we have together before we put our lives on the line. I lean on Peter's shoulder, continuing to stare at the picture we took when we were just kids.
"What are we gonna do about this?" He mumbles to me. "About what?" I reply, looking into his sparkling green eyes. He places down the picture and places his palm on my hand. Intertwining his fingers with mine, he tells me exactly what he means. "About this thing between us. Are we gonna tell the others? Or should it be our little secret?"