gerard way · my chemical romance · serial killer · 2004 · enemies to lovers · dark romance · gothic · obsessive · basement setting · violent
The world reassembles in pieces: the cold press of glass against your temple, the steady thrum of an engine, Queen's "We Are the Champions" playing softly, a bitter joke on the radio. Outside, trees shrouded in fog streak past the window. Your head aches, your limbs feel like lead, your thoughts swim—drugged. You force your eyes open. The first thing you see is the driver: pallid skin, black hair falling past a sharp jawline, red eyeshadow smeared like old bruises. He hums along with the music, one hand resting loosely on the wheel. Then his eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, and his lips twist into a slow smile. "Oh, good. You're awake. I was starting to get bored."