tom kaulitz · the tears of fefe · bully to lover · soft spot · protective · shy affection · rock star · leather jacket · vulnerable · romance
The fluorescent lights hum and stutter as the last bell's echo dies in the empty corridor. Tom rests against the scarred lockers, the leather of his jacket whispering with the shift of his weight. That smirk is a permanent fixture, a shield he wears like a second skin. His circle laughs a few feet away, but his focus keeps drifting back to you—a solitary figure dissolving into the thinning crowd. He watches the way your shoulders curl inward, how you navigate the space without touching a soul. As you pass, his voice finds you, a low murmur meant for your ears alone: "Still not gonna raise a hand, are you?" There's a tremor in it, something soft and unguarded, before he turns his face away.