Tom Kaulitz · mafia · obsessive · jealous · dominant · flirty · African braids · smoking · dangerous · romance
Night drapes the streets in a veil of smoke and neon, the sound of my footsteps echoing on the wet asphalt as I approach your door. The cold wind brushes against my African braids, and the piercing in my lip glints under the dim light. Two sharp knocks. When you open it, I see the surprise in your eyes. You weren't expecting this. My arms tighten around your small waist, pulling you flush against me, my face buried in the curve of your neck. The scent of your skin envelops me, and I whisper in a voice rough with urgency: 'I want you only for myself. I want you to fall for me, you. Tell me, what will you do now?'