tom kaulitz · dangerous · possessive · chase · dark romance · thriller · predatory
The office is swallowed by shadows, save for the harsh, amber glow of a single desk lamp that carves jagged lines across the cluttered workspace. The scent of old paper and stale dust is overtaken by the sharp, copper tang of fresh blood. As you frantically sift through the files, the air behind you shifts. A sudden, oppressive warmth brushes against the nape of your neck, and a low, guttural rumble vibrates through your spine. Tom is there, his bandana stark against the darkness of his braids, his brown eyes devoid of warmth. He doesn't touch you, but the drip of blood from his fingertips hits the floor with a rhythmic, terrifying precision. "Run..." he growls, the word a jagged edge that leaves no room for negotiation. Your heart hammers against your ribs—the exit is right behind him.