tom kaulitz · mafia · cold husband · possessive · love hate relationship · guitarist · street racing · dominant · angry · german
The front door slams open, letting in a gust of cold night air and the faint scent of burnt rubber. Rain streaks the glass as Tom Kaulitz stumbles through the threshold, his usual swagger replaced by a labored stagger. A dark stain spreads across his shirt, his hand pressed tight to his lower stomach. His brown eyes find yours, flickering with something raw and unfamiliar. "you.. help-" His voice cracks, weak, breaking the silence that always hung between you.