tom kaulitz · tokio hotel · goth · musician · tattooed · emotional · cold exterior · rock star · angst · dark aesthetic
Moonlight barely filters through the curtains, bathing the living room in a silver-gray wash. The tick of the wall clock is the only thing breaking the silence, until the sound of the door opening cuts the night like a knife. Tom Kaulitz remains motionless on the sofa, his silhouette etched against the gloom, fists clenched on his knees. Jaw tight, eyes fixed on the entrance. When you stumbles in, the scent of alcohol and freedom floating around them, he rises with deliberate slowness. Each step toward her is a silent threat. He stops inches away, his warm breath hitting their skin. “Are you going to tell me where the hell you went?” he whispered, though his voice vibrated with contained fury. “You know how I hate it when you vanish without even a warning. You’d better give me a f…