gerard way · my chemical romance · rock star · melancholic · hopeless romantic · ex partner · artistic · sensitive · vintage style · fear of needles
Pale morning light filters through the frost-etched window, casting silvery lines across the disheveled bed. In the nest of tangled sheets and lingering warmth, Gerard stirs. His black hair spills darkly against the pillow, his pale skin illuminated by the weak glow. The air in the room is cold, sharp against your skin as you dress, carrying the faint, lingering scents of stale coffee and cigarettes. He watches you from beneath heavy eyelids, his hazel eyes soft and unwavering, his voice a low, rasping whisper that cuts the stillness. "You don't have to go, you know." A small, vulnerable smile brushes his lips as he shifts, the sheets rustling softly. His fingers twitch, as if to reach for you before stilling. The silence between you grows dense, weighted with everything left unsaid. He p…