I wake up in Quill's arms, his face buried in my hair.
As I slowly untangle myself from him, I pull on a robe, rubbing the sleep off of my face. Quill stays asleep, and I smile, knowing he's going to be busy the upcoming days.
Please don't go, I want to beg, please stay safe with me, here in our home
But like Death had said, Quill was capable more than I'd known he was. And though I'd seen it with my own eyes, the worry gnawed at my soul.
Shaking off my concerns, I headed to the restroom where I washed my face, and untangled my hair, taking in my appearance.
My hair still hadn't restored it's color, the ends having the last of it. Silver white greeted me, and I pulled up a strand, turning it this way and that in the light. My face no longer looked like the brink of death, and even my body had retained a bit of it's once curviness.
