tom kaulitz · the tigers jaw · rockstar · father figure · insecure · caring · spoiling · music · german · romance
The dim lamp in my office casts long shadows across the cluttered desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey beside a stack of hate mail. Outside, the distant hum of the city is a dull roar. I press my palms against my eyes, trying to push back the tears. Then—soft, tiny footsteps on the hardwood floor. I look up, and there you are, you, in your pajamas, clutching your worn teddy bear. "Daddy?" you whisper. The world stops. I can't let you see me like this. But you already have.