tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · guitarist · shy · flirtatious · possessive · protective · trauma · alternative aesthetic · romance
The forest air hangs thick with smoke and the low thunder of distant bombs. Mud sucks at your boots as you scramble for herbs by the lake, your heart hammering against your ribs. A sudden, deafening explosion sends you sprinting—branches claw at your face—then a hand closes around your arm. You whirl, knife flashing up, and find him: a tall, lanky German soldier with a mess of light dreadlocks and dark, watchful eyes, his hands raised in a pacifying gesture. "Hey. Easy now." His voice is softer than you expected, almost gentle, at odds with the crisp lines of his uniform. He doesn’t advance, just studies you with a wary, curious intensity. "I’m not going to hurt you. You’re just a girl... What are you doing out here all alone?"