The light filters through the blinds as you vainly attempt to stay asleep. You wake up, confused momentarily, wondering why you are in your parent's room. Realizing why you are where you are, you turn around and try again at your dreaming state.
You jump in shock as you meet a sleeping Morty on the other side of the bed. Your eyes shoot open, more than they already are.
As your shock faded away, you sit up and observe your surroundings. When you get off the bed, Morty stirs in his sleep. Afraid of waking him up, you quietly exit the room. The only noise is the soft patter of your feet on the carpet and the click of the door shutting as you leave.
Figuring, and hoping, the only reason Morty was in the bed, was to keep warm you think as you head into the kitchen. After checking on Rick to make sure he's still sleeping, you tiptoe back onto the tile and quietly, but swiftly, get things out to make breakfast.
Deciding to make breakfast for the two of them, you start cooking pancakes, eggs, and bacon, a classic breakfast. (I'm hungry now!!)
. . .
Just as you finish up, you pop some toast in the toaster and place the plates and silverware on the bar. Just as you put a jar of jam on the counter, Morty stumbles out into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
"Breakfast's ready," you say.
"Aw, man! That looks good!" Morty exclaims, hungrily.
You smile, looking down and realizing you're still in your pjs.
"Ha. Not used to having guests in the morning. Or guests at all," you correct yourself awkwardly.
Morty anxiously gives a confused grin, following your gaze to your feet and back up.
You offer a nervous laugh and jog into your room, cringing all the way.
You change, taking note that Morty made the bed before he went into your parent's room or he didn't even sleep in it at all. You frown in thought at the bed.
You walk into the kitchen, seeing Rick has already woken up and is chowing down on the food. You also see Morty patiently waiting by Rick, him not eating at all.
"I was waiting for you," Morty admits when you ask him why he's not eating.
"Oh. Thanks," you thank him, with a small smile.
After watching the two of you stare at each other for a few odd seconds, Rick breaks in: "Jeez. You f-fauuuggghhhhhh-fuckers be staring at each other like no one's shit."
It was your turn to stutter this time.
"What? Wha-what are y-you talking a-about?" You ask, nervously, scratching the back of your neck.
Rick rolls his eyes. "Ooh la la. Ladies and gentlemen; the new Morty."
Morty protests as Rick ignores him and continues to eat.
You sit on the other side of the bar and pull your own plate closer to you.
"So? Is it good?" You ponder, honestly wondering what Rick would say. Insult her cooking or compliment mildly with an unappreciated tone. Oh boy!
"It's ok, I-I gauuuuggghhhh- guess," Rick answers, fulfilling your second prediction.
As soon as you take a bite, so does Morty.
What a gentleman. And he's only a kid, you think.
Or is he?
"Morty? How old are you?"
"14," Morty says, blandly.
"Whoa! I thought you were like te- Nevermind," you hold back.
"Ten? Yeah, I get that a lot," Morty finishes.
"I didn't mean to o-offend you or anything," you stammer.
Realizing how careless he had sound, Morty says in a more upbeat tone, "Oh, no. It's fine!" Morty looks up, his look softening. "This is really good!"
"Oh, thanks."
After Rick finished eating he decides to cut in, "Well, I guess Morty and I should be leaving."
"I-I'm not finished," Morty complained.
"Nobody cares if you're done, Mooorrrtyyyy," Rick belches.
You and Morty both stay quiet as Rick stands up and calls Morty to leave.
