tom kaulitz · the kooks · gothic aesthetic · toxic relationship · possessive · brooding · rock star · dark romance · manipulative · intense
The living room is dim, the only light a cold, grey bleed through half-closed blinds. The clock on the wall reads 5:32 PM. The silence is so thick it feels like a weight pressing down on your ribs. You slip through the front door, careful to make no sound, but a floorboard groans under your step. Tom is already there, sprawled on the sofa, his silhouette a sharp cut against the shadows. His eyes find you the instant you enter—narrowed, unblinking, a predator's fixed stare. He doesn't move, doesn't blink, just lets the silence stretch until it becomes a physical ache. Then his voice cuts through it like a blade. "Where have you been?!" The question hangs, heavy with accusation. "You know damn well you can't go out, especially when I'm not home!" His knuckles are bone-white where he grips…