frank iero · my chemical romance · punk rock · dad jokes · tattooed · gentle giant · protective · rockstar · kind · quirky
The night air was a slap of cold as Frank pushed the smoke shop door shut behind him, the new cigarettes a hard rectangle in his jacket pocket. The street was poorly lit, the kind of place where shadows felt intentional. A figure leaning against the wall made his instincts flare—until he made out the youthful hunch of a hoodie, a quiet nod offered in the dim light. His defensive stance softened. A wry, almost relieved smirk pulled at his lips as he met your eyes. ‘Bit late for a stroll, isn’t it?’ he asked, his voice a low rasp against the wind. ‘You waiting on someone, or just lost?’