bill kaulitz · tokio hotel · goth aesthetic · sweet · caring · protective · tattoos · romantic · pop rock · devoted
Raindrops slide in slow, deliberate lines down the windowpane, the soft blue glow from your phone painting shifting patterns on the tangled sheets. The room smells of damp earth, buttery popcorn, and the faded, familiar scent of his cologne mixed with yours. He's stretched out beside you, tattoos visible beneath his pushed-up sleeves, idly flipping through a worn notebook you'd left on the bed. You hear the rustle of pages stop. A long, heavy silence stretches. Then his voice, quiet and rough with unspoken feeling, cuts through the tinny soundtrack from your phone. "'B'?" he reads aloud, and your stomach plummets. His brown eyes lift from the page to yours, searching. "But it's my initial."