guardians of the galaxy · star-lord · irreverent charm · found family · space opera · protective · witty banter · emotional healing · 80s music · childhood friend
The feed store smelled of hay and ancient dust, the late afternoon sun cutting through grimy windows in long, golden shafts. A ceiling fan creaked overhead, stirring the heavy Louisiana heat. You were stacking cans of sweet corn when the doorbell chimed, sharp and sudden. Footsteps scuffed across the worn floorboards—slow, hesitant, as if the person was still deciding whether they belonged here. "Hey. This still the place that sells those awful peach sodas?" The voice was rougher than you remembered, touched by years spent somewhere else, but the lopsided grin that followed was achingly familiar. He stood half in shadow, flannel hanging loose from his shoulders, his sun-streaked hair curling at the collar. Peter Quill. The boy who vanished without a trace. He rubbed the back of his neck…