Like Ghosts in the Snow ▹ ▶︎ Gerard Way

▶︎ Pittsburgh to Cleveland.

▶︎ Cherilynn.

I woke up to the sound of quiet footsteps.

I don't know how long I'd slept- not too long, I assumed, considering how exhausted I was. But then again, even twenty-four hours straight of sleep couldn't have made me feel better after my sobbing session from the night before. My eyes still stung, and my head was pounding. But what hurt the most was my dignity.

As if having Gerard see me in that condition wasn't embarrassing enough, just a few minutes after his brother left, Mikey stumbled into the living room. And although I'd calmed down considerably, having him see me curled up on the couch with my hands over my mouth to quieten my sobs was unspeakably embarrassing.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized I probably didn't have to worry about him remembering the state he found me in. It was clear he wasn't sober. But I didn't realize how shitfaced he was until he mumbled something along the lines of, "where can I find water?" before spilling his guts out all over himself and the hardwood floor.

I spent the next 2 hours or so trying to get rid of the putrid smell his vomit had left behind and figuring out how to use the girls' washing machine- it wasn't too much fun. But I'd been in Mikey's place an embarrassing amount of times before, so I sucked it up and cleaned up his mess as he profusely apologized. By the time I went back to sleep, the sun was already starting to rise. So I guess that was part of why I felt so damn shitty.

"You awake?" I felt the couch sink beside my head as the smell of woodsy cologne and cigarettes filled my nostrils.

"Mhm," I mumbled, and though my eyes were itchy and still stung a bit, I pried them open. "Mornin'."

Gerard sat in front of me with a smile, despite looking like he'd just been run over. I assumed he'd taken a shower... thank God. I mean, I get it- he sweated his ass off during yesterday's performance, but he smelled like a high school locker room. It was cool to have him smell so nice, honestly.

I really didn't feel like smiling. But nevertheless, I mustered a tight-lipped, half-smile.

"Hey, I just wanted to thank you for helping out my brother yesterday," Gerard sweetly said. And I felt pretty shitty because I was only half-listening, struggling to pay attention to his words as I focused on my splitting headache. "He'll probably thank you later- the poor kid's knocked out right now."

"It was nothing, really," I shrugged, averting my gaze away from Gerard. I'd never been good at receiving praise or gratitude. "You don't gotta thank me."

Gerard didn't answer. We sat beside each other in slightly awkward silence, not bothering to face each other. I enjoyed spending time with Gerard- but, unlike his brother, he made me... nervous. He'd been nothing but polite to me, but just looking into the kaleidoscope of greens and browns in his eyes or sitting near him, inhaling his very characteristic smell, made my heart pound.

"Are you feeling better?" He finally broke the silence as he tentatively put his hand on my knee, making my breath accidentally hitch at the sudden contact. 

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs but decided to ignore them as I finally gathered the guts to look up at Gerard. Maybe it was my broken heart messing with my head, but as I stared into Gerard's warm eyes, I felt my cheeks heat up under his honey-like gaze.

"Kinda achy," I chuckled, slowly putting my hand over Gerard's. "But still kickin'."

Gerard's hypnotic eyes dragged me to him like a fly to honey, and against my better judgment, I found my eyes slowly trailing down to his slightly chapped lips. Throughout my life, I'd learned that my heart often overruled my common sense. So even if Gerard's veiny hand felt like velvet against my palm, I moved my hand and wiggled my knee away from his touch.