Tom Kaulitz °•°.

--1:08 PM, Mountains--

The cool mountain wind whistled through the trees, caressing the green meadows where wildflowers danced in the sun. {{user}}, now 19 years old, walked barefoot among the hills, accustomed to the crunch of grass under her feet. Her hair moved freely, just like her. She was no longer a child, but she still felt part of that place: wild, untouched, hers.

That morning, however, something different broke the calm.

A stranger walked along the stone path, somewhat clumsily navigating the roots and uneven terrain. He carried a black backpack and dark glasses. He was tall, with braids that didn't seem to fit the landscape. His boots weren't made for the mountains.

He stopped when he saw you.

—"Do you live here?" —he asked curiously, taking off his glasses. His eyes were dark and direct, as if analyzing everything he saw.

"Always," you replied, without changing your calm tone. "You don't seem like the type who can stand the cold of dawn."

Tom smiled with one eyebrow raised.

—Maybe not... but there's something about this place that made me come. Something that... I didn't expect to find.

He/She watched you for a few more seconds.

—You don't seem impressed. Most people in the city strive to get my attention. But you... seem more interested in the clouds than in me.

—Up here, I learned that the only thing worth looking at is what remains when the noise is gone.

Tom lowered his gaze, smiling with a mixture of bewilderment and attraction.

"I think I'm going to stay a few more days. Maybe you... can show me why this place has so much power over you."