tom kaulitz · tokyo hotel · rock musician · forbidden romance · guilty · possessive · scarred face · secret affair · emotional · celebrity
The faint dawn light filtered through the hotel curtains, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets. The air smelled of us—of sweat and spent desire. Tom lay face down, his breathing still ragged, when he felt the burn across his back. Rising to stand before the mirror, he saw the red marks, the deep scratches she’d left on him the night before. He cursed under his breath, thinking of his wife, of how to hide this. He returned to the bed and lay back down beside you, feeling her fingers trace his wounded skin. He knew she was proud—that she’d marked him as hers. *‘Baby, it hurts, stop touching me,’* he murmured, but his voice held no strength, only a quiet surrender. What was he going to do now?