My Chemical Romance One Shots (complete)

Gerard x Reader - Sketchbook

I checked the clock over the door and realized it was closing time. I turned the sign hanging in the small bakery’s window to ‘closed’ and hung up my apron. I swept the floors, then grabbed a rag and cleaning solution to wash the tables. I began to wipe them when I noticed something. A sketchbook was lying shut in one of the booths accompanied by a pencil. I put the rag and solution away for I was finished, and went over to examine the book.

It was heavily used. The corner of the black cover was folded up, and the entirety of the book was just worn down. It was covered in stray marks and splattered paint. I opened it and saw a name messily scribbled on the inside cover. It read, “Gerard Way, 322 Cemetery Drive.” I was surprised. I didn’t expect this person to have given a direct address. He must really care about the sketchbook.

It was well after closing time when I grabbed my phone to check where ‘Cemetery Drive’ was. I got on Google Maps only to discover that it was only about five minutes away from where I lived. Even though I had walked to work, I didn’t mind the extra walking.

I got my things and his sketchbook. I walked outside into the cold night air. It bit my face as I began to walk. There was a gust of wind and the pages of the sketchbook flew open. I went to close it, but I realized what the man had drawn.

Every single picture in the sketchbook was a drawing of me.

I nearly dropped it as my eyes widened. I had never heard of this man, so how did he know me enough to draw a perfect rendition? The more I thought about the scenario, the more worried I became. What if he had sent people to get me, and needed to draw a picture to identify who I was? What if he was stalking me? What if-?

My thoughts were cut off as I realized I was standing on a porch. His front porch. My legs had brought me here while my mind was falling down a rabbit hole. I looked at the golden doorknocker that read ‘Way’ and reached up to knock. But I hesitated as all of my thoughts rushed back to me. What if it was all a trap? It was pretty odd that there was an address in the book-.

I stopped myself as I heard a noise. It sounded like a soft scraping coming from the inside. Then, the door opened. I wave of heat was substituted for the cold, biting air as it hit me. I heard the faint talking of the TV in the background as the face of a man filled my vision. He was wearing jeans and a black misfits t-shirt. His shoulder length, greasy red hair fell to his shoulders. “Hello,” he greeted me softly.

I stood on the porch in pure fear. He smiled as he saw what I was holding. “You found it,” he said. “I thought I left it at the bakery, but when I realized, you had already closed. I was going to come in tom-”

“Why are all of the pictures of me?” I questioned, cutting him off.

“So you opened it,” he said scratching the back of his neck and casting his eyes downward.

I just stood there in the cold air. I couldn’t move or speak. I could only stand.

“Well,” he began. “I’ve gone to your bakery many times and I always get a coffee and sit in the corner and draw. The first day I started coming, I didn’t know what to sketch. I wanted a challenge. When I looked at you I thought you would be hard because it would be nearly impossible to capture your…” He trailed off, avoiding contact.

“My what,” I practically whispered.

“Beauty,” he answered simply. “I thought it would be hard to capture your beauty. And it was.”
My eyes widened as I comprehended what he was saying. “Do you really think I’m… beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s the only reason why you were drawing me?”

“Yes.”

A very small smile crept onto my face as I handed him the sketchbook. “Thank you.” I murmured.

“You know what else I think,” he said, starting again. “I think I’m free this Saturday, and I think I might want to maybe… go out with you?” His voice got quieter and more questioning as he reached the end of his statement.

“You know what I think,” I answered, now fully smiling. “I think that would be great.”

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