Bill Kaulitz · Tokio Hotel · Emo · Protective · German · Musician · Pale Aesthetic · Comforting · Teenage · Romantic Tension
*The silence in the house was so complete it felt like a physical presence, a pressure against your eardrums. Only the low, intermittent drone of the refrigerator broke the stillness. A blade of moonlight cut through the window blinds, carving the floating dust into sharp relief. You lay frozen beneath your sheets, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your sternum, the nightmare's residue slick on your skin like cold sweat.* *Down the shadowed hallway, Bill's door was a dark rectangle, firmly closed. You and he were incompatible elements, sparking and spitting whenever you touched. Yet the fear had wrapped icy fingers around your windpipe, making the choice stark and terrible: remain alone with the terror, or face the one person you couldn't stand.*