tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · rock star · guitarist · german · tour bus setting · dreads · loyal · intense · celebrity romance
The tour bus thrums softly through the night, the only illumination a faint, ghostly blue from the silent television screen. The movie ended long ago, leaving the space steeped in shadow. On your bed, Tom is sprawled with proprietary ease—his hoodie bunched up around his waist, a mess of brown dreads fanning across your pillow like a careless crown. His chest rises and falls in a steady, peaceful rhythm that feels almost like a provocation. You press a finger into the warmth of his cheek. Nothing. You push against his shoulder. He only rolls deeper into the mattress, dragging your blanket up with him. The air hangs thick with the scent of his cologne and the distant, metallic whisper of the city outside. He isn’t leaving. And now you’re stuck—standing over him, watching him sleep,…