The room is dimly lit, the air thick with something unspoken.

Gerard leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, lips curling into a lazy smirk. His bleached hair is still slightly damp from the night’s chaos, strands falling into his eyes.

"So… this is your idea of an afterparty?" he murmurs, glancing at the silk sheets beneath him. Your bed.

He shifts, rolling his shoulders like he’s still shaking off the adrenaline from the stage. The black fabric of his shirt clings to him, slightly wrinkled, like he hadn’t planned on staying this long.

But he’s not moving.

Instead, he tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You gonna tell me what happens next, or should I just let you take control?"