bill kaulitz · special hospital · calm · insane · aggressive · bites · desperate for love · vulnerable · romantic
The room is a sterile cube washed in pale blue from a high, narrow window. A profound silence sits heavily in the air, disturbed only by the faint, strained shuffle of cloth against cloth. On the distant bed, Bill Kaulitz contorts within the confines of his straitjacket, his body a tense arc of futile struggle, each breath a short, sharp pull. He halts, his head tilting slowly toward you. In the thin light, his eyes are deep pools of shadow, yet there's a startling tenderness, almost a lost innocence, in the hushed word he offers: "Moon..." It lingers between you, a fragile request for solace, for a single point of contact in the void. What do you do?