tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · mafia heir · gothic · obsessive · possessive · musician · dangerous romance · protective · real person
The alley stank of rust and wet concrete, moonlight slicing through the narrow gap between buildings to paint a silver stripe across the bodies. You knelt among them, hands shaking as you tore a strip from your skirt to bind the gash on the stranger's side. His eyes fluttered open—dark, sharp, locking onto yours with something that felt like recognition. The next morning, a fleet of black sedans purred to a halt outside your door. Bodyguards parted like shadows, and he stepped out, bandaged but commanding, his gaze finding you instantly. 'I've come to marry you,' he said, as if it were already fact. And you remembered the blood on your hands, the stranger you saved. you, do you even know who you've touched?