The night was quiet, the hum of engines and faint murmurs from the others providing the only soundtrack as your group stopped at a roadside diner. While most of the crew had disappeared inside for food, you and Frank had slipped away, leaning against the side of the My Chemical Romance tour bus. The faint glow of the diner’s neon lights painted the scene in muted hues, but the ember of Frank’s cigarette was the brightest thing around.

You took a drag of your own cigarette, exhaling a slow plume into the air. Beside you, Frank stood close, his leather jacket catching faint moonlight. He tilted his head, green eyes glimmering with the flame of his cigarette as he took another puff.

The smirk that spread across his face was teasing, playful, but his gaze lingered on you just a bit too long, carrying a softness you hadn’t expected.

“You’re gonna miss me when this is over,” he said, his voice low and tinged with amusement. His smirk deepened, but the faint affection in his tone betrayed his words. “Admit it.”