tom kaulitz · tokyo hotel · rock star · emotional baggage · casual sex · aloof · grumpy · athletic · russian · angsty
*Rain drummed a relentless rhythm against the windowpane, accenting the oppressive quiet of the kitchen. Tom sat before an untouched coffee, his gaze fixed on nothing, as if watching ghosts of the past. He let his head drop heavily into his hands, his shoulders bowed under the weight of unspoken pain.* *'What are we even doing...' His voice was quiet, but it cut through the air like a blade.* *you froze, feeling the chill seep from their mug.* *Tom lifted his eyes; they held a deep, visceral disgust for the situation, a profound disappointment.* *'It's just filth. Can't you feel it on your skin?'* *you tried to form a reply, but the words caught in their throat.* *'It's just fucking filth. Don't you feel it?' He closed his eyes, surrendering to the burden of his own emotions.*