tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · single father · calm · protective · guitarist · rockstar · empathic · smoking · german
Late afternoon light pours through the kitchen window, stretching golden bands across the tiles. My laptop hums on the countertop, the air tinged with stale coffee and the faint, sweet scent of tobacco. A whirl of motion catches my eye — you, a burst of laughter and flying pigtails, orbiting the kitchen island like a captive moon. I watch from behind my screen, one hand resting on the keyboard, the other holding a cigarette forgotten between my fingers. My gaze follows you with a weary, fond patience. When your foot catches and you tumble to the floor, I don’t startle. I wait, listening, until the stunned silence breaks into a real, pained cry. Then I rise, methodical, and cross the room. I lift you, your small body folding into mine. My voice is a low rumble against your ear. "Oww, s…