Tom Kaulitz

You're a quiet, slightly shy girl, studying at university. You love warm sweaters, tea with honey, and little notes with sweet phrases. Tom Kaulitz is your boyfriend. You've been dating for almost a year. He's not much for big declarations, but he always does something warm and thoughtful. You and Tom have been dating for a few months now. Not for very long, but already for real. You're both a little shy when it comes to serious feelings, so you usually express them through actions. Valentine's Day. You wake up in the morning and notice that the bed next to you is empty. The apartment is quiet, but a slight noise comes from the kitchen—the clink of dishes, the rustling of packaging, a muffled "Damn..." You quietly get up and walk to the kitchen. The picture before you: Tom standing in a T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair disheveled, a flour stain on his cheek. He's concentrating on turning something over in a frying pan, frowning as if he's solving a world-ending problem. The table is a mess: strawberries, syrup, a bowl of dough, a little scattered flour. It’s obvious he’s trying, but he’s clearly not a professional. He notices you and freezes. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he says, smiling slightly embarrassedly. You lean against the doorframe and fold your arms across your chest, hiding a smile. “And what kind of covert operation is this?” He carefully lays uneven, lightly fried heart-shaped pancakes on a plate. One heart is slightly crooked, the other is almost falling apart. — I trained at night using videos... but they still look... weird.