Chapter Seven: Seeing the Beauties of a Flame

2.2K 83 87
                                    


~~~~~
(Y/n)'s POV

I awoke on the couch when I heard someone messing around in the fridge in the kitchen. I tilted my head up a little bit to see the back of a white lab coat. Rick. I groaned in pain as my head dropped back down to the couch cushion. My head was pounding with a head ache and I was experiencing a hangover... Figures. I'd been completely sober for almost four days now... That's new...

"Headache?" I heard Rick call from the kitchen.

"Mmm Hmm, hand me another beer would you?" I asked with pain.

"You're joking, right?" Rick asked in a serious tone.

"No, I'm not..." I said, looking around the cushion for the flask I had taken. I didn't notice that Rick had walked to the couch with a bottle of water in his hand.

"Where'd my flask go?" I said slightly slurred, I may have been a little tipsy still.

"You're flask? You mean my flask? You fucking took it from me!"

"Yeah, it had some good stuff in it... What's this?" I asked when he offered me the water bottle.

"It'll help with the headache," he said reassuringly as I took the bottle and set it on the coffee table.

"Yeah, and so does beer... It numbs the pain, and helps you forget..."

"So what? You just plan on drinking all your life?"

"Yup, great job Sherlock, you figured it out... I got my memories back, so now I plan on returning to my life from where I left off..."

"(Y/n), if you keep drinking like this, your gonna kill yourself..."

"You don't think I know that? Ya know- just because you're a fucking scientist, doesn't mean you have to talk down to every one..."

"What the fuck (y/n)? I wasn't-"

"Oh, here it goes, go on and correct me, since your sooo smart... Ya know- if you were as smart as you said you were, then how come you didn't help me erase my memories?!"

"First of all, I never called myself smart. You're the only one who has referred to me as smart this entire time. *sarcastically* Thank you, I'm so flattered. And secondly: What? (Y/n), what are you talking about? You never asked me to-"

"Yes, I did, Rick... Remember when I got my memories back, and I yelled, 'Make it stop! Make it stop!'? What did you think I meant by that?!"

He remained there with a straight face, showing no emotion. He walked over to me, picked me up bridal style, and began to carry me as he walked through the house... I felt my cheeks brighten a bit due to the position I was in. I watched his face as he carried me. But he just looked straight ahead, his straight faced expression still remained.

"R-Rick, where are you taking me?..." I asked nervously. He ignored me and continued to walk to his room. He dropped me onto his bed, still staring off into space, and placed another water bottle on the night stand. He walked towards the door, and turned around in the doorway. He finally turned to look at me, and his face now had a sadistic small smirk.

"Sorry, (y/n). You clearly aren't sober, so until then, we won't continue this conversation... Oh, and I'm locking you in my room," he said calmly, the look he gave was almost one that said, 'Sorry, Not Sorry'. Then he turned, left, and closed the door. Shortly after, I heard a small *click*. I fell onto my back angrily on the bed. I looked over to my side to see the water. I grabbed it indignantly, drinking half of the bottle on the spot. I lie back down on the bed, only shortly after, falling asleep.

(Rick x Reader) Don't Play with Fire [DISCONTINUED]Where stories live. Discover now