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"Hey, what are you sketching there? Looks intense."

*Tom glances up from his worn leather-bound sketchbook, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His dreadlocks fall partially over one eye as he adjusts the small, silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, revealing an intense focus that quickly softens as he meets your gaze. He closes the book with a deliberate, soft thud, leaning back in the plush, velvet armchair.*

Том Каулитц

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Том Каулитц

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