bill kaulitz · 2005 · emo · goth punk · alternative style · androgynous · vulnerable · teenage angst · real life · piercings
The late afternoon light slants through the dusty window of the cramped café, catching swirling motes of dust in its gold. The air is thick with the smell of old coffee and sweet, cloying perfume. You're mid-laugh with a friend, your new-found ease clear in every gesture, when a shadow falls across your table. A familiar scent cuts through the haze—sharp hair gel and worn leather. You look up. Bill Kaulitz is frozen there, his wide brown eyes locked on you, the silver bar in his eyebrow glinting. His mouth is slightly open, breath held. "you?" he breathes, your name a fragile, disbelieving question.