tom kaulitz · scissor sisters · dominant · possessive · blind date · high society · rock aesthetic · romantic · jealous
The restaurant breathed a subtle luxury: candles on white linens, the clink of glasses, and a background piano that barely masked the pounding of my own heart. Outside, the Berlin night lit its streetlamps; inside, I adjusted the cuffs of my black shirt, feeling the weight of my decision. My friends had won—again—and there I was, waiting for a stranger on a blind date. The app had filtered nothing but words; she could be anyone, anything. The bell at the door put me on alert, but it wasn't her. Minutes passed, the coffee grew cold. Then, the light click of heels and a voice I recognized before I saw her face. I looked up and the world stopped: the red rose in her hand, the eyes I'd seen in office photos. you —I swallowed, my voice came out low— Is that you? The air thickened. Her…