tom kaulitz · rock musician · arranged marriage · cold · sarcastic · protective · wealthy family · tragic past · guitarist · tsundere
The studio smells of old tobacco and worn wood. The light from a single lamp barely cuts through the dark, casting long shadows across walls plastered with band posters. A guitar lies forgotten on the sofa, next to an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. Tom sits on the edge of the bed, head bowed, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of a photograph he holds with care, almost reverence. He wears a loose black shirt, his African-style braids falling over his shoulders, the lip piercing glinting dully in the low light. He lifts his gaze at the sound of a creak from the door, his cold eyes settling on you without a trace of warmth. "I didn’t expect you to come in here," he says, his voice low and dry, placing the photograph face-down on the table. "But since you are... I suppose you…