Call Out My Name|| Tom Kaulitz

i want whatever you want.

Me and Tom put my things in the trunk as fast as we could, and drove off just as fat, if not even faster.

I was relieved, shocked, confused.
It was nothing new for me to receive insults, threats, but the way Tom stood up for me and defended me made me re-evaluate the entire script I made for myself.
I was a strong person, determined, and I was sure of that, but I started to think that maybe there was nothing wrong with needing some help.
In that moment, Tom was the only help I'd ever gotten in a long time.

While we were driving home, Tom was laughing and singing Eminem's songs; seeing him that happy made me happier myself while I was looking at him, almost admiring him.
He saved me, someone who was so sure of the fact that she didn't need any saving, that she was okay just the way she was.

I felt happy, carefree, and I began to sing along with Tom as he took my hand in his and used it as a microphone.

After a few minutes of pure leisure, we parked in front of the house where Tom helped me bring my stuff into my room.

Once we entered the room, I threw every bag on the ground and threw myself on the bed, staring at the ceiling, still puzzled about what happened.
I still needed to metabolise everything, - the fact that I finally left the house that tormented me for years, the fact that I was safe.

Tom opened the sliding door that led to the terrace and sat on one of the chairs, while he lit up a cigarette.
I turned myself to look at him, watching his head tilt back a little while blowing the smoke out of his nose.

I stared at him of a few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see me, and then I decided to sit up straight on the bed, still looking at him.

'Fuck it', I whispered to myself getting up from the bed and walking up to him.

Once I was standing right in front of him, Tom looked at me in the eyes, smiling.
I was feeling emotional at the time, like I was most of the time, but I was still lucid enough to understand what I was doing.
I didn't care about Bill's words, - whenever I looked at Tom all my thoughts vanished, I knew what I wanted and I wouldn't have let anyone stand in the way of getting it.

'Is everything good, blondie?', Tom asked still taking puffs of his cigarette, without taking his eyes off of mine.

'Stop the bullshit Tom, I know what you want', I said taking his cigarette from his hands and throwing it in the ashtray that was on the table near the chair.
Tom was confused, but I knew his confusion was fake, - I saw that he was amused, and I wanted to have fun too.

He stretched his legs out, practically laying on the chair, with his elbows on the armrest, while rubbing his hands.
'And what is that I want, then?', he said, with a challenging tone in his voice, with his usual smirk printed on his face.
I couldn't immagine Tom without that smirk anymore, and I liked it.

I liked every part of Tom: his hands that were twice as big as mine, his muscly arms with visibile veins, probabile because he played the guitar very often, his lip piercing that complemented mine, and his little earrings.
His eyes, that told me everything and nothing about him at the same time, those eyes that made me crazy, crazy happy sometimes, and crazy angry other times.
However, I liked it that way, I didn't like easy things, I felt like they were not worth it -, I was attracted by chaos, confusion, by the conviction that I could fix everyone, when the first one that needed fixing was myself.
It didn't really matter, I felt happy knowing that I could fix someone, even if that meant completely losing myself.

Not wanting to think about a thing, I walked a little bit closer to Tom, deciding to sit on his lap without indulging too much, because if I started to think I wouldn't have been able to stop, and all I wanted to do was to turn my brain off.

Even if Tom acted like a braggart most of the time, I knew that he didn't expect me to do something like that.
That made me happy, first of all because he didn't take me for granted and didn't expect me to give him what he wanted when he wanted, and secondly, it gave me the power and control that I was craving.

'I think', I said, putting my hands on his neck and whispering to his ear, 'that you want what I want'

I looked at him in the eyes, and I felt his hands rubbing my back, touching my hips, and then place themselves on my legs.
I kissed him like I needed his touch, his presence, his lips on mine.
I kissed him like it was the last thing I could've done before dying.
I bit his bottom lip gently, careful not to hurt him, and I felt his lips curve into a smile, before returning on mine.
My hands were glued on his neck, pulling him closer to me, as if I wanted to melt our bodies together.

Tom pulled away for a bit, letting us catch our breaths, while he grabbed my hips.
'I'll take that as a thank you', he said, still smiling.

I smiled back, and started to print a few kisses on his jaw and his neck.

'Oh Tom, I haven't even started to thank you yet', those words were enough for him to stand up, keeping me in his arms, and to go back to the room.

He placed me on the bed, not too gently, and went back to close the sliding door.

In those few seconds that Tom pulled away from me, I felt the need to feel him next to me again, - those few moments away from him were enough for me to crave him even more.
I wanted him with all my body, my head, and maybe a bit with my heart too.
But surely I was thinking with everything but my heart in that moment, to be honest.

Luckily it didn't take him that long to close the door and come back to the bed.
He lied on top of me, carefully placing himself so that his weight wouldn't have crushed me, and we continued were we left off.
He kissed me with way more passion than before, taking one of my hands and placing it above my head, while his other hand lifted my leg up and wrapped it around his back.
I felt our breaths getting heavier, while my only free hand caressed his back, pulling his shirt up a bit.
Tom took that gesture as a signal, because he backed up to take his shirt off and threw it on the ground, as I could finally see his body.
His defined muscles, muscular but not too pumped, his braids that fell perfectly on his naked chest.
I followed his example and took my shirt off, remaining with a pink laced bra with silver straps.
Tom went back to kissing me with more lust than before, starting to leave some kisses on my neck, sliding down to my chest and stomach.
In that moment I couldn't help but let a little sigh leave my lips, as Tom started to look at me and smile, white unbuttoning my jeans.

'Pearl!', I heard someone yell from downstairs.
I got so scared that I accidentally hit Tom with my knee on his stomach, causing him to grunt a bit and lie on the bed.

'Shit, sorry', I said giggling, and getting up from the bed.
I was quite angry to be honest: that was the second time Bill interrupted us, and as much as I loved him, he was starting to get on my nerves.

'Didn't he say he wouldn't be home tonight?', Tom said, puffing and putting his shirt back on.
I did the same thing while trying to pull myself together from what was about to happen.

I walked to the mirror, fixing my shirt and my hair, and Tom got up from the bed coming behind me.
He delicately wrapped his hands around my waist, and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek while looking at me through the reflection of the mirror, still with the same look he was giving me a few seconds before, making me ask myself if it was worth it to risk it.

'Maybe next time, playboy', I turned to him, wrapping my hands around his neck and grabbing his hair.

'Oh, blondie, I would wait a lifetime for you.'