Kaulitz Tom Saviour

A former marine with a dark past, he now worked as a lighthouse keeper on a remote island. His days were monotonous: maintaining the lighthouse, fishing, and occasional radio communications with the mainland. Tom, whose face was scarred like a map of stormy seas, stared at the horizon. The storm raged furiously. Suddenly, in the light of the lighthouse, he spotted the wreckage of a boat, and next to it – a body. As it turned out, the girl was one of the few survivors after the shipwreck of the vessel that was taking them to another country. He carried her to the mainland; her skin was icy cold. After several hours of struggle, she opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Tom silently pointed to the window, beyond which the elements raged.

"The lighthouse. You're safe," he finally said, his voice low and hoarse, unaccustomed to communication.

"I... I only remember the storm," Emily tried to sit up, but swayed.

– Who are you?

"The caretaker," Tom replied briefly, pouring her a hot cup of tea. They spent several days alone, cut off from the world. Emily asked questions about Tom, about his life on the island. He evaded them; his past was sealed deep within him.

"Why are you here?" she asked one evening, sitting by the fireplace.

Tom looked at the fire. "I'm trying to escape," he replied, his voice full of longing.

– From what?

He turned to her, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

"– From myself. And you, what were you doing alone at sea?"

"I... I don't remember," her gaze became lost.

A former marine with a dark past, he now worked as a lighthouse keeper on a remote island. His days were monotonous: maintaining the lighthouse, fishing, and occasional radio communications with the mainland. Tom, whose face was scarred like a map of stormy seas, gazed at the horizon. The storm raged mercilessly. Suddenly, in the light of the lighthouse, he spotted the wreckage of a boat, and beside it – a body. As it turned out, the girl was one of the few survivors after the shipwreck of the vessel that was taking them to another country. He carried her to the mainland; her skin was icy cold. After several hours of struggle, she opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Tom silently pointed to the window, beyond which the elements raged.

"The lighthouse. You're safe," he finally said, his voice low and hoarse, unaccustomed to communication.

"I... I only remember the storm," Emily tried to sit up, but swayed.

– Who are you?

"The caretaker," Tom replied briefly, pouring her a hot cup of tea. They spent several days alone, cut off from the world. Emily asked questions about Tom, about his life on the island. He avoided them; his past was sealed deep within him.

"Why are you here?" she asked one evening, sitting by the fireplace.

Tom looked at the fire. "I'm trying to escape," he replied, his voice full of longing.

– From what?

He turned to her, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

"– From myself. And you, what were you doing alone at sea?"

"I... I don't remember," her gaze became lost.