[ If there's one thing Gamora's good at, it's listening. It used to be a skill applied purely for her own advantage, but it's served her well bonding with others, learning their stories. She's gotten bits and pieces from Peter over bottles of liquor, ramblings from Rocket, reminiscence with Drax. She commits it all to memory when it comes from someone important.
Of the people Gamora's met since waking, Richie is at least closer to important than the other refugees.
(She has such a hard time letting anyone close.)
And now, in this dusty bar, she hangs on every word. That voice, though, of some decrepit leper, almost makes her shudder – but even then, she doesn't interrupt. Bill, Eddie, George, Ben, Stan. She's remembering these names as Richie goes on.
Finally, her eyes flicker down to where Richie's pockets must be under the table. ]
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Of the people Gamora's met since waking, Richie is at least closer to important than the other refugees.
(She has such a hard time letting anyone close.)
And now, in this dusty bar, she hangs on every word. That voice, though, of some decrepit leper, almost makes her shudder – but even then, she doesn't interrupt. Bill, Eddie, George, Ben, Stan. She's remembering these names as Richie goes on.
Finally, her eyes flicker down to where Richie's pockets must be under the table. ]
That photograph?