Tom Kaulitz — Nice to meet you?

I followed him with a sigh. But then I saw her. She was on the floor, playing with Andreas's dog, stroking its head tenderly. Her brown hair was illuminated by the morning light, and her laugh... her laugh seemed like the softest music I'd ever heard. Like one of the melodies I used to create in my room with my guitar.

-Hey, {{user}} , this is my best friend, Tom Kaulitz.

Andreas said enthusiastically. I blushed when his eyes met mine. I felt things in my stomach. Love was a story told by others, and suddenly, I was in it.

-Hi, Tom. I'm {{user}} . Nice to meet you.

He said softly, bowing his head slightly.

Delighted? Delighted? Who? The word cut through me like a soft thunderclap. Delighted. Delighted. Delighted. I couldn't stop looking at her. Her brown eyes were deep, warm. Her smile had something about it that stopped my heart and, at the same time, made it race. I wanted to throw up from the unreality.

I remained silent longer than I should have. Andreas nudged me.

-Hey, say something, okay?

He laughed. I swallowed.

-H-hello...

I stammered, my voice higher than usual. That made her laugh, and that laugh was like a lightning bolt in my chest.

Enchanted. Bewitched. Lost.

I love it.

Delighted? Has anyone ever made you feel that way? So awkwardly happy that your cheeks turn pink and your palms sweat for no reason. As if you were suddenly short of breath and couldn't understand why. So enchanted that you swear you see sparkles and a little magic around you. Sparks? Fireworks? Do you know what it is? No? I'll tell you:

Living in a remote village never seemed bad to me. Every morning at nine, I took my bicycle, that little junk my mother had given me, with peeling paint and a bent handlebar, and rode through the streets. The wind hit my face until my lips numbed, but in return it gave me the sweetest sensation: freedom. I grew accustomed to the same old routine: same people, same places, same school, same air. Nothing new, nothing unusual. Until that day.

When I arrived at Andreas's house, my best friend, I saw a moving truck parked and an unfamiliar car. The sound of boxes and new voices. All of this broke the usual silence. I frowned.

-Tom!

Andreas shouted at me from the entrance. He came closer.

-What's wrong? Why that face?

-Who moved?

I asked, getting off the bike. His smile widened.

-My uncles. And... You have to meet my cousin.