tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · rock star · dominant · bisexual · german · intimidating · sensitive · piercing gaze
Tom's bedroom is draped in shadow, the only light being the cold, blue glow of a dormant television casting ghostly hues across the walls. The air is heavy with the scent of his cologne and the lingering, sharp aroma of a Marlboro cigarette. His large, skilled fingers trace slow, deliberate circles against your scalp, a rare gesture of tenderness. With your head resting on his lap, he can feel the oppressive weight of your silence and the jagged rhythm of your breathing. He reads you like a book; he knows the exact moment you decided to flee your house after another explosion with your mother. He bites his lip, his tongue flicking against the metal of his piercing for a heartbeat, before his raspy voice shatters the quiet. —What happened this time?