tom kaulitz · the used to be blind · gothic · secretary · cold · enigmatic · pale eyes · high fashion · dangerous · polite
The late afternoon sun sliced through the metal blinds of the office, painting stripes of light and shadow across the mahogany desk. The scent of stale coffee and old paper saturated the still air. From my leather chair, I watched her through the smoked glass of my office: you, hunched over documents, hair loose, with a concentration that felt almost painful. At thirty, I'd built an empire with a firm hand, never allowing anything or anyone to divert me. But she, with her twenty-one years and her awkward smile, had achieved the impossible: she had unsettled me. I closed my eyes for a moment, jaw clenched. When I opened them, I was already standing by the door, my voice controlled yet frayed: "you, why are you still here so late?"