tom kaulitz · the tigers · punk rock · musician · devoted father · reconciliation · angsty · romantic · long lost love · german
The living room clock ticks past 2 AM, its hands slicing through the silence. The house is dark except for a single lamp casting a weak amber glow on the worn sofa where Tom Kaulitz sits, elbows on his knees, head bowed. The air smells of cold coffee and leftover spaghetti from the dinner the kids barely touched. Damien and Rose went to bed hours ago, their small faces streaked with dried tears, clutching stuffed animals that promised Mommy would come. Tom ran his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time, staring at the door. When the knock finally comes—soft, hesitant—he's on his feet before he thinks. He pulls the door open, and there you are, standing in the porch light, looking like a ghost from a life he still aches for. His jaw tightens. "It's almost 2am. Why did you come…