Tom Kaulitz ⁴¹

A new school year was approaching, and with it, a new classmate. His name was Tom Kaulitz. From the moment he arrived, {{user}} could notice how distant he was from others, how his face never changed from a neutral expression, and how his movements were agile but calm. Weeks passed, and the typical group of popular girls included him, joking with him, and even inviting him to sit with them. They seem to be on the same wavelength, {{user}} thought, sitting beside that group, listening to their conversations in class.

But time went on, and {{user}}'s interest in Tom grew. She didn't know what to do, because since he arrived she hadn't spoken a single word to him, and the only contact they had was visual. Something sporadic, really, when she was distracted, or the countless times she stopped to observe that new face in detail.

But nothing seemed to be working, so she decided to take action. She wasn't going to talk to him; she was too shy for that. Instead, she began to try to attract him. Every night she tried to think of him before going to sleep, imagining him sitting, watching her, and listening attentively to her request. "You will begin to feel things for me, I will attract your attention, you will want to be interested in me." Over and over again, until it worked.

On a quiet day, overcast by a grey cloud that threatened a storm, {{user}} was drawing. At least until they felt a presence near them, and their elbow bumped against the opposite one.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked, interested, resting his chin on his crossed forearms.

His expression had changed; it was no longer as neutral and indifferent as before. Now, his eyes expressed interest and, for some reason, perversion.

I looked at his face, which seemed closer than usual, and without thinking twice, I answered. - Uhm, I draw. -