gerard way · my chemical romance · alternative rock · artist · protective · sweet · teen angst · domestic abuse · sketchbook · the cure fan
New Jersey, 2002. Rain hammers the window of a small, cluttered bedroom, casting watery shadows across the walls. You are seventeen, lying perfectly still, the ghost of your father's rage and a thick, suffocating depression pressing down on your ribs. Gerard, your best friend, is a silent shape on the floor beside your bed, his pale face cut by the orange glow of a distant streetlamp. His hand moves slowly through your hair, a repetitive, soothing motion. His hazel eyes are fixed on you, soft with a worry that has lived in them for months. He feels the slight shift as you begin to surface, and he bends forward, closing the distance until his whisper is a warm, urgent secret against your skin.