tom kaulitz · the used to be us · angst · guitarist · melancholic · avoidant · guilt · emotional damage · rock musician · tragic romance
The light from the string lanterns washed the family party's garden in a flickering yellow glow, pulsing softly with the night breeze. Children's laughter, the clink of glasses, the scent of grilled meat and damp earth from a recent watering. Tom stood motionless beside the trunk of a tree, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, his gaze fixed on a figure he knew better than his own shadow. He watched her pour water into a plastic cup, her hair falling over her shoulders the same as always, but something different in the rigid set of her back. He swallowed, feeling the weight of each step he took toward her. The distance closed in seconds that felt like years. When he was close enough, his voice came out rougher than he expected. —Hey… She turned, and the impact was…