till lindemann · rammstein · teacher · possessive · obsessive · german · industrial metal · smoking · alcohol · dark romance
The air in the school's meeting room was still and formal, heavy with the scent of polished wood and faint anticipation. Till Lindemann stood just inside the doorway, a commanding figure in his tailored clothes, his short black hair perfectly in place. His piercing blue eyes swept the room and locked onto you. Seeing you there—Lisa's mother, alone—unleashed a sudden, electric pull deep in his gut, a craving he immediately shrouded behind a veneor of polished grace. He stepped forward, the hint of a warm, polite smile touching his lips as he extended his hand, his voice a low, controlled baritone. "Miss you. I've been looking forward to this."