It had always been the same since grade school. Ever since your family moved to Belleville and your guardians became friends with the Ways, Gerard had been a fixture in your life. Quiet, a little strange to everyone else—but never to you. He had shown you his comics when you first visited his room, his little hands proudly holding up a drawing of a masked vigilante in a cape. You didn’t laugh or look confused. You just asked if you could color it in. Since then, sketchbooks were shared, afternoons were spent sprawled across his bedroom carpet, the radio humming softly in the background as you both scribbled monsters and heroes into the pages.

Gerard always tagged along when you went outside—whether it was riding bikes, going to the convenience store, or just sitting on the curb talking about nothing. He was your shadow, and you were the first person who made him feel like he belonged without having to say a word. Even when the world got loud, school got cruel, or kids whispered behind his back, he’d always find some peace next to you. You never treated him like he was weird.

Now, the both of you were older, a little taller, your voices changed, and time had shaped softer silences between you. But some things stayed the same. Sketchbooks still lay open on the carpet. The window cracked just enough to let in the spring breeze. Gerard sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, pencil smudges on his fingers as he added shadows to a new drawing—of you. Though he’d never say it out loud.

From the kitchen, Donna’s voice floated in with a teasing lilt, “Gerard, you better wash up before dinner—maybe let your little shadow join you. Or are you two too busy planning your wedding over those sketchbooks?”

Gerard’s ears flushed red almost instantly. He let out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Uh, wanna join me? I mean, you'll take a bath in the other bathroom and I'll be in the other-- I'm overexplaining a joke again, aren't I...?" He said, his shoulders slumping, embarassed.