Bury me (Rick Sanchez x reader)

Chapter 3

Not bothering to say goodbye to summer I grabbed my shit and left ASAP.

My mind was reeling, did I really do that ??? I groaned as I drove through the empty night streets. Rick Sanchez... His thin wiry face flashed in my mind. He definitely wasn't unattractive despite his age, but he was a fucking asshole. Why did I let him do that??
"I don't know how I'm gonna talk to summer again. Maybe 'hey! Had fun at the party! Sorry I left , your grandpa finger blasted me and I got so embarrassed I had to leave!'" I narrated to no one .

Pulling into my apartment complex parking lot I switched my car off and stared blankly ahead. I rubbed the thin material of the shirt Rick had lent me and I felt my face flush. Between all of the crazy alien shit and his standoffish demeanor, Rick had caught my attention- and I wasn't sure what to do about it.

Making my way into my dark apartment I threw myself onto my mattress which still sat on the floor. My (H/C) locks sitting wildly on my head and my (E/C) eyes dimmed from exhaustion. Like a blushing school girl, I buried my face in the inside of Rick's shirt and breathed in the musky scent. He said we'd probably see each other again, did he mean it? I wanted to learn more about him.
The thought of Summer crossed my mind and a pant of guilt stabbed my gut. I know she has a little crush on me, but I really just want to be friends. Summer was cool, I genuinely had fun hanging out with her. Maybe I'd talk to her about just being friends and go from there.
My stomach flipping with a flurry of emotions I concentrated on falling asleep.

      The next morning...

Summer: yo. Saw you were gone by the time I woke up? Hope you at least had fun at the party

Summer: we should hang out again sometime.

    I rubbed my eyes as I looked at the texts I had received from earlier this morning. Smiling I texted back.

Me: yeah! Srry something came up.

Me: and totally :) glad to have already met a good friend here in town

      Specifically using the word friend I hoped my messages conveyed the friendly platonic demeanor I was aiming for.
      Stretching my arms, I raised from bed. Last night was fun but today I had some real business to take care of, I need a job.
      Changing into a simple black tshirt and jeans I went with something that showed off my tattoos. I grabbed my portfolio and made my way into town to apply at some of the local shops.
     

       Four shops in and no luck. Everywhere was fully staffed ! Staring at the next shop in front of me I clutched my portfolio and sighed. The sign flashed Birdie's tattoos . It was a small shop , between a nutrition store and a fast food joint . I inhaled deeply and exited my car, making my way towards the door.
      A small bell rang as I made my way into the shop and I was surprised to see how pretty it was. Floral sprays and trinkets littered the walls and the counters; dozens upon dozens of flash art sheets hung on the walls. A little blonde woman sat boredly at the receptionist desk and she looked up at me expectantly .

"Hi! My name is (Y/N). I'm a tattoo artist looking for some work and I was hoping the owner could take a look at my portfolio." I said fluidly.

The woman hummed and spun around in her chair.
"Birdie ! Come here for a second." She called out.

I wrung my hands nervously as I heard deep footsteps approaching from the back of the shop. A rather large man approached , he had a shaggy black mullet and a couple of face piercings. He was fit and covered in tattoos- he was pretty attractive.

"How can I help you ?" He said politely.

I felt myself blush and cursed inwardly for being so easily swayed.

"H-hi! My name is (Y/N) I'm a tattoo artist looking for work, I was hoping you could take a look at my portfolio." I said reaching out to shake his hand.

He took my hand firmly and smiled.
"Oh! Well sure I'll have a look."

    He carefully grabbed my portfolio and made his way to a nearby sofa to flip through it. His face was unreadable as he looked through my work and I picked at my nails anxiously.

"You have some solid work. How long you been tattooing?" He asked

"U-um only a couple of years, I got in when I was 19." I explained.

Birdie hummed in acknowledgment before shutting my portfolio and handing it back.
"How about you give me your number beautiful and I'll think about it."

My face lit up and I quickly scribbled down my number and name.

"Thank you sir! I hope to hear from you !" I cheered.

Birdie smiled and we waved our goodbyes . Feeling confident in myself I called it a day and went home.