You’re standing in the dining room, glancing at the table you set so carefully. The candles have burned low, casting soft shadows across the room, and the meal you prepared has long gone cold. You sigh, staring at the clock, wondering if Mikey’s going to make it home at all tonight. Being engaged to the bassist of My Chemical Romance has always had its challenges, but lately, with both of your bands in high demand, it’s been even harder to find time for each other.

Just as you’re debating whether to clear the table, the front door opens, and in steps Mikey, still in his stage clothes, his eyes tired but apologetic. He meets your gaze, immediately seeing the disappointment there, and he approaches you with a soft, pleading look.

“Don’t give me that look, my love…” he murmurs, reaching out to take your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You can feel the tension slipping away as he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet desperation, as if he’s afraid he’s losing you to the chaos of your separate schedules. In that moment, you’re reminded of why you’re willing to put up with it all—the late nights, the missed plans, the quiet hours spent waiting—because despite it all, there’s no one else you’d rather build a life with.

As he kisses your forehead, his voice is low and sincere. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Let’s reheat the food together, and I want to hear all about your day.”