An MCR fanfic (which I need help for a name!)

Footsies...

Elle's POV:

Me and Mikey skip (yes skip) up the path to their already open front door. Mikey steps aside and bows, "After you, mi’lady."

I curtsy. "Thank you kind sir."

Gerard just shakes his head, laughs and follows us inside.

The Way household is just what I expected it to look like; homey, bohemian and warm. Each wall is a different colour, and paintings are scattered around. It has the same layout to our house, so I know Donna's in the kitchen when I hear her mumbling to herself.

"Would you like a tour?" Mikey asks.

"If you wouldn't mind. I hate to be looking for the bathroom and find one of your bedrooms, Who knows what I'll find there!"

Gerard laughs this really...weird laugh. It's weird. Not ...attractive in the least. Okay, so it’s adorable. It's kind of a cackle. Heh.

"Well, I'm not sure about mine, but Mikey's room has to be the worst in the country! I swear there's corrosive... stuff in there!"

"Hey! No there's not! Just 'cause you're all 'Mr Anti-social' and won't let anyone in there!"

"C'mon Mikes, I used to let people in there..."

"Not anymore you don't!"

"Yeah, well..."

"Hey, guys?"

The Way brothers both turn to look at me.

"I never used to let people in my room either. It's my space, and no one else's. It's not bad. But I'm also pretty messy too. Get over your bedroom flaws! I am by far, the worst out of us all!"

"Hear hear!" Shouts Gerard.

"Wow, Elle. Didn't pin you as the messy type. Introverted yeah, but not messy."

"Okay okay! Can we get on with that tour now?"

"You two can do that. I need to go hide in my Batcave. See ya!" Gerard walks up the stairs before waggling his fingers at us and slinking round the corner.

“He’s so sassy.”

I turn to see Mikey shaking his head at his saucy brother.

“Hmm, I get where you’re coming from there. Theatrical maybe, but sassy... no.”

“What?! He is the sassiest being in the known universe!”

“I’m gonna need evidence to take this investigation further, Agent Way.” I shake my finger at him.

“Fine. But if you want that tour we’re gonna have to go now.”

“Why?”

“Because my mom will soon notice us and rope us into helping her cook.”

“Oh. I can’t cook.”

“Me neither. So let’s go!”

Gerard’s POV:

"You two can do that. I need to go hide in my Batcave. See ya!"

I walk down the corridor to my room. My fingers are twitching from the need to draw.

I get to my desk and pick up my sketchbook and charcoal. As soon as the charcoal touches the paper, it starts flying- creating lines and shadows where it needs to.

Charcoal is probably my favourite way of creating art. It’s easier than paints, more dramatic than pencil, and you can create more texture and depth than either of them can. Also, they’re more portable.