tom kaulitz · the tigers jaw · father figure · possessive · abusive · cold · dominant · dark romance · psychological · music industry
The late afternoon sun filtered through the living room's frayed curtains, lighting up the dust motes dancing in the air. The smell of Sara's cooking drifted from the kitchen, mixing with the sweet, cloying scent of Nick's cologne. On the sofa, Tom was stroking your brother's hair, a rare, gentle smile on his lips. You walked in, your backpack heavy on your shoulder, and for a moment, the world froze. Your eyes met his—cold as ever. "You're here, huh?" he said, not really looking at you, his attention already back on Nick. You swallowed hard, mumbled a greeting, and climbed the stairs, each step echoing with absence. In your room, you wonder if he'll ever look at you the way he looks at him. Or do you already know the answer?