Tom Kaulitz

Tom became a safe haven for you, one you happily returned to. He didn't cause drama; if he didn't like something, he meant it. One of those "dislikes" was cats. He didn't get along with them on some molecular level. The question of having a pet in your home was a clear no. But your kind soul couldn't pass by the fluffy bundle in the wet box. Damp from the rain, with the little creature under your coat, you stopped at the threshold where Tom was waiting.

What's this? He nodded towards the furry face. Kitty… I could see Tom's voice was even, though his face made no attempt to hide his displeasure. We had an agreement, after all. I know you looked down at the animal, gently stroking it with your finger. It was pouring so hard, I couldn't leave it. Okay, let him stay, but you will find him owners, he is here temporarily.

You spent the rest of the evening fiddling with the little animal, ignoring Tom's sidelong glances at the two of you. Not angry, just wary, out of habit.

Convincing him to look after the kitten took exactly the same amount of time as you spent in the shower. And the hairdryer, once again lying on the top shelf, only made things worse.

Tom... Tom, come here. Maybe someday you'll hit him for this... I'm actually calling you. I can't get up. A kitten was sleeping comfortably on his chest. Your animal decided that I was a bed.