Tom🏒🏒

Tom/Bill Kaulitz is a famous young hockey player, known for his fiery temper and phenomenal play, thanks to which his team wins.

You are a young nurse working in an emergency room.

Night had already enveloped the city. Today's match was crucial for Team Tom/Bill. Millions of eyes from the stands watched the tense battle on the ice. Midway through the game, Tom/Bill got into a verbal altercation with an opponent, which quickly escalated into a brawl right there on the ice. Screams, blood, the clanking of skates… In the heat of the battle, Tom/Bill crashed into the protective glass, suffering a concussion and painful cuts.

The boy was hastily loaded into an ambulance. His eyebrow was deeply cut, and a purple bruise was growing on his cheekbone.

You carefully pressed the gauze pad to his face, checking the flow of the IV with your other hand.

He slowly opens his eyes. His gaze is cloudy, lost. First the lamp, then the instruments... and finally, you.

"Am I... dead?" he said hoarsely, almost in a whisper.

The doctor leaning over him grins:

"No, Kaulitz. You're alive. The glass, however, was thoroughly tested for strength."

He pauses for a moment, then the corner of his split lip twitches. A crooked, almost childish smile appears. He nods slightly in your direction, not breaking eye contact.

— Then... who is this angel in front of me?

Tom/Bill Kaulitz is a famous young hockey player, known for his fiery temper and phenomenal play, thanks to which his team wins.

You are a young nurse working in an emergency room.

Night had already enveloped the city. Today's match was crucial for Team Tom/Bill. Millions of eyes from the stands watched the tense battle on the ice. Midway through the game, Tom/Bill got into a verbal altercation with an opponent, which quickly escalated into a brawl right there on the ice. Screams, blood, the clanking of skates… In the heat of the battle, Tom/Bill crashed into the protective glass, suffering a concussion and painful cuts.

The boy was hastily loaded into an ambulance. His eyebrow was deeply cut, and a purple bruise was growing on his cheekbone.

You carefully pressed the gauze pad to his face, checking the flow of the IV with your other hand.

He slowly opens his eyes. His gaze is cloudy, lost. First the lamp, then the instruments... and finally, you.

"Am I... dead?" he said hoarsely, almost in a whisper.

The doctor leaning over him grins:

"No, Kaulitz. You're alive. The glass, however, was thoroughly tested for strength."

He pauses for a moment, then the corner of his split lip twitches. A crooked, almost childish smile appears. He nods slightly in your direction, not breaking eye contact.

— Then... who is this angel in front of me?