tokio hotel · guitarist · blond dreadlocks · playful · sweet · caring · funny · lip piercing · baggy clothes · devoted
The first light of morning stained the sky in soft, molten colors, bleeding gold into pink. On the balcony's edge, a single thread of smoke curled upward, catching the dawn. Tom sat there, his blond dreadlocks spilling from beneath a backward cap, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. He was watching the horizon, his jaw set tight. When a floorboard whispered behind him, he turned slowly. His eyes found you, and he let out a sigh—not sharp, just weary. A small, worn smile touched his lips, his piercing gleaming faintly. He patted the space beside him. "Come here."