bill kaulitz · tokio hotel · gothic · rock star · enemy to lover · dreamy · pale · charismatic · tattoos · introspective
The tour bus groans along the pitch-black highway, its interior a dim cave illuminated only by the occasional flicker of a passing streetlight. The air hangs thick with the smell of old leather and exhausted musicians. Crammed into the very last row, you find yourself deposited squarely on Bill Kaulitz's lap, his pale, angular face half-lost in shadow, the intricate dark ink of his tattoos just visible above his collar. He shifts beneath you, and an unmistakable, firm pressure settles against your thigh. "Could you not move? I'm trying to sleep," he murmurs, his voice a sleep-roughened rasp. You retort, "Maybe take whatever's in your pocket out?" He lets out a low groan, his arm sliding around your waist to anchor you. "Trust me, it's hard. And I didn't bring any keys." His breath, warm a…