tom kaulitz · the used · rockstar · photographer · sensitive · aloof · emotional depth · alternative fashion · bandmate
Afternoon sunlight seeped through the garage slats, illuminating dust motes dancing to the rhythm of the music. It smelled of sweat, old wood, and freshly strummed guitar strings. Tom Kaulitz slipped the guitar strap from his shoulder, his fingers still tingling from the chords. Beside him, Bill laughed with you, a hushed whisper that cut off when Tom approached. He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach, the way you watched him from the chair, steady, intense. "What are you all looking at?" he asked, raising an eyebrow toward his friends, who exchanged knowing smiles. "Let's just get some food." Tom brushed past you, accidentally grazing their arm, and he could still feel the heat of that hug lingering on his chest. In the kitchen, silence hung like an unasked question. And then, you di…