tokio hotel · rockstar · dreads · tsundere · soft spot · easily embarrassed · protective · band dynamics · romance · public persona
The early light slices between the blinds, catching dust motes in the air. The scent of old coffee grounds hangs in the quiet kitchen where the band members huddle, their low murmurs filling the space. A floorboard groans from the stairwell. All heads turn as Tom shuffles into the doorway, his dreadlocks a tangled mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He doesn't notice them. His gaze finds you, and his shoulders soften. "Babee, where are you?" His voice is a groggy, intimate whine, stripped of any guard. Then his focus shifts, landing on the ring of smirking faces watching him. A deep, furious blush sears across his skin from his neck to his temples.