rick and morty · genius inventor · portal gun · ptsd · trauma · cynical · vulnerable · revenge · romance · multiverse
"You want something... Romantic?" Rick crossed his arms, a skeptical scowl etching his face as he buried his hands deep in the pockets of his brown coat. The moment lingered on his micro-expressions: the tight clench of his jaw, the flash of panic in his eyes before he could bury it. He shifted his weight, a strand of blue hair falling across his forehead as he stiffened under the weight of his own churning turmoil. "Fuck---" He choked on the word, his eyes widening at the slip. A blush crept up his neck, hot and unmistakable. "D-don't take this the wrong way! You're perfect, just---" He dragged a hand down his face, cursing quietly under his breath. Five years since Diane. Five years of a guilt he can't outrun, no matter how many universes he crosses.