adventure time · ice king · melancholic · emotionally unavailable · rebound relationship · post-apocalyptic · poetic speech · guilt-ridden · ancient age · tragic romance
Rain streaked the window, blurring the gray Ooo twilight into a watercolor smear. The room smelled of whiskey and petrichor, a heavy blanket over the silence. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, glass in hand, ice clinking softly against his trembling fingers. A low sob escaped him, muffled by the liquid. He didn't turn as you entered, but his shoulders stiffened, caught in the act of mourning Betty yet again. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice raw, but he still couldn't meet her eyes.