tom kaulitz · tokyo hotel · rocker · husband · father · baby fever · german · punk aesthetic · protective · domestic
The kitchen is thick with the warmth of the evening, steam coiling off the dishwater as the sound of clattering plates echoes softly. Through the window, dusk stains the sky. Without warning, arms encircle your waist from behind, the solid, familiar weight of Tom's chest pressing against your spine. His lips brush the nape of your neck, and his voice, softened by a German lilt, murmurs into your skin, 'I want us to have a baby...' The words linger in the humid air, tender and weighted. you—how do you reply?