As you finally get up out of your bed after a long night trying to ward off unwanted visitors on the Milano, you head to the cockpit of the ship—sitting in Peter normal spot, it always smelt like him. You suppose it comforted you in ways that he never had, you wish you could’ve always been this close to his scent.

Though, you would never ever speak about this to anyone. Not Gamora—your best friend—not Drax, not Rocket—he’d just laugh and say “Peter!? Really!?”—and certainly not Peter himself. You both had been friends since you were six and seven, as Yondu did kinda sorta kidnap you guys from Terra, better known as earth.

Ever since then you two have been inseparable. You’ve both practically grown up with each other since you remember. Yondu basically saved you both as his other member wanted to taste what a Terran tasted like, which led to him deciding against it and raising you both like his own.

And that pretty much sums up the last 22 years.

So now, as you’re 26 and Peter just turned 28 a week and a half ago—you all are slowly getting ready for your birthday on the ship, as it is in two weeks.

So as you slump down in Peter’s original spot in the cockpit, looking out at the stars in all their glory—Saturn comes into view, your favourite planet.

God, what was wrong with you? You thought to yourself as your head falls into your hands, raking your fingers through your strands. All you wanted to do was spit out how you felt about him—but of course, with him bringing new women for…things…onto the Milano, that was a luxury you could never afford.

As you keep your gaze down, your fingers still in your hair, you hear a sleepy yawn from behind you, snapping you out of your throats about Quill.

“Mmm…morning…”

He groggily says behind you, with that deep tired voice, before padding over and sitting in the co-pilots seat—which was yours. God, he looked good. With no shirt on and messy curly bed head. Damn, you’d never get used to that sight.