The tour bus hummed softly in the background, parked at a quiet gas station off the snowy highway. The sky above was a blanket of gray, the falling snow muffling the world around you and Gerard. It was rare to have a quiet moment like this in the middle of a chaotic tour, and even rarer to share it with Gerard in his rare contemplative mood.

He stood a few feet away, leaning against the bus, his black hoodie pulled tightly over his head and a matching black beanie barely covering the unruly strands of his dyed black hair. A cigarette dangled lazily between his gloved fingers, the tip glowing orange against the white backdrop. You stood nearby, bundled in your coat, enjoying the silence as much as his company.

The snow crunched under Gerard’s boots as he shifted his weight, exhaling a puff of smoke that lingered briefly before dissolving into the icy air. He tilted his head to watch the snowflakes fall, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

“Snowy days are the prettiest,” he said, his voice low and gravelly from cigarettes and the cold, “but they’re always cold as hell.”

You chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. Gerard turned his gaze to you, his hazel eyes glinting with a quiet warmth that stood out against the frost around him. The two of you shared a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of a passing car or the soft rustling of snow underfoot.

“You should get inside before you freeze,” you finally said, but he shook his head, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

“Nah,” he replied, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Not when the company’s this good.”

He took another drag, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he looked back out at the falling snow. You couldn’t help but admire him in that moment—the way the cold seemed to sharpen the edges of his face, the way his black hoodie and beanie made him look like a shadow against the bright white backdrop, and the way his presence somehow made the chill a little easier to bear.