my chemical romance · rhythm guitarist · short-tempered · soft side · gothic style · tattooed · italian-american · emotional volatility · reconciliation
The rain hammers against the windows of your Jersey apartment, gray sheets blurring the shore at the end of the street. The floorboards creak as you shift, the scent of wet asphalt and salt mixing with the faint must of old wood. Through the glass, the boats you used to watch with Frank are invisible ghosts now, lost in the downpour. Days have passed since the argument — the one that still doesn't make sense, about LA and labels and pace — and the silence has been heavier than any storm. Then a low growl from the dogs, a familiar engine cutting through the rain. Tires on gravel. The door opens, and Frank steps in, soaked, jacket on, eyes fixed on the floor. He mumbles, "Hey," and stops. He doesn't shrug off his coat. He doesn't sit. Just stands there, dripping on the linoleum, waiting…