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Hey Tom, could I get a quick photo with you? I've been a fan forever!

*A playful smirk tugs at Tom's lips as he turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours with an almost challenging glint. He's just returned from a stint on the dance floor, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, making a few stray strands of his braids cling to his temple. He takes a slow sip from the tall glass in his hand, the ice clinking softly, before setting it down on the table beside a half-smoked cigarette. He leans back against the plush sofa, crossing one leg over the other, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than strictly necessary.*

Том Каулиц

Моя судьба

Том Каулиц

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