Emo Trinity x Reader

Gerard Way x Reader - Ripped Jeans And Greasy Hair (Part Two)

Requested on Tumblr
Word count: 2 882

You had expected to wake up to an empty bed, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of wild, black hair hanging into a pale forehead. Gerard's long lashes rested gently against his cheeks and he looked relaxed and so soft that you had to resist the temptation of running your fingers over his skin.

What were you even thinking? You barely knew the guy who slept so peacefully in your bed! Carefully you moved out from under the blanket Gerard seemed to have covered you with at some point and climbed out of bed, trying not to wake him.

"Everything okay?"

You flinched at the sound of his raspy morning voice and guiltily turned around to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you stammered.

You were not sure what to do, invite him for breakfast? Ask him to leave? You did not want him to leave. He had been so kind to you yesterday. And you liked him, he was nice, he cared, you felt understood by him. Maybe he needed you just the way you needed him?

He seemed to sense your hesitation and sat up, getting out of the bed.

"Are you feeling better," he inquired, making the bed.

"A bit, yes, thank you."

You watched him smooth out the blanket and look over at you.

"I think I should le-"

"Do you want to stay for breakfast," you quickly interrupted him.

He obviously did not expect that but a smile spread over his face.

"I'd love to, thanks," he grinned.

You led him down the stairs into the kitchen, closing the door to the staircase so that your mother, who was still asleep, would not be woken up by you talking.

You raided the fridge for things you could cook for breakfast. In the end you decided on sausages, bacon, toast and pancakes. Gerard insisted on making the pancakes, promising that he had an excellent recipe. You talked a lot, about whatever came to mind. Gerard almost made a mess with the flour, but saved the situation in the last second. He told you a few things about his family, about himself, and you listened, wondering a little, how the boy, you had been intimidated by just two days ago, had ended up in your kitchen, preparing pancakes while quietly singing along to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah on the radio. When you had finished cooking you carried the food, two plates and cutlery into the small garden that belonged to the house. The morning was cool, but the sun shone onto the terrace, warming up the air. You sat at the table, hungrily munching on your breakfast, continuing to make jokes and tell stories. It was so easy to talk to Gerard. He did not judge you for your taste in music, or your desire to make the world a better place, or your wish to get away from all the chaos. He understood you, added little strings of thoughts himself and it felt like he had read your mind.

After your mother had gotten up, Gerard had the chance to introduce himself formally. Together you cleaned the dishes and tidied the kitchen. When the work was done, Gerard invited you over to his house and you spent the day watching old horror movies. It was a lot of fun and you definitely were not complaining about being able to cuddle into his side whenever you were scared.

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, when you returned back home. Your mother was going on a business trip for a week and you wanted to say good bye to her. She asked how your day had been, and joyfully mocked you about Gerard, asking for how long you had been together and reminded you to use protection. Of course you were mad at her for that, not really, but you were terribly embarrassed. Both of you laughed and she hugged you good-bye before she got into the car and drove down the road.