The One Who Controls | Tom Kaulitz

You Can't Be Here

"Stop fucking touching her." I could hear him yelling from a distance at Jackson. Footsteps came up, and grabbed my body roughly, moving me around. Tom moved my hair away, cupping my face. He gave me a kiss before leaving me on the ground.

I look up, watching him yell and fight with Jackson, they started getting physical, Tom punching him, throwing him to the ground. Bill broke it up fast, "Chill the fuck out Tom!" He yelled, shoving him away. Jackson spit his blood to the ground, laughing at Tom. This was just a fucking joke to him.

"Fuck you man, fucking pussy." Jackson said as he walked off, speeding off in his car. Tom yells out and bangs his fist against the car. I flinched watching him switch.

"Why the fuck was he holding you! V why the fuck were you even talking to him!" He yelled in my face as he gripped onto my shoulders hard. This fucking asshole. I may be drunk but he doesn't just get to yell at me right now, he didn't even understand.

"Stop fucking yelling at me!" I scream back, tears welling up in my eyes. His eyes read something different then how he was acting. "I'm taking you home, come on," he urged, his voice firm yet comforting. He pushed me into the seat and slammed his own door shut, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"He was all fucking over you," he growled, his jaw clenched with anger. The possessive edge in his tone revealed the depth of his emotions, and it was clear Jackson was really fucking with him.

"I'm too drunk for this," I confessed, my words slurring slightly as I leaned back in the seat, my head spinning. The weight of the night's events had left me drained, and all I wanted was to sleep. Tom put his hand on my thigh, and grabbed my chin, kissing me. I let in and put my hands around his neck, kissing him hard. His one hand went around my neck as the other was around my waist. His tongue parted my lips, making me vulnerable. He always did this, make it seem like he wanted to kill me and then he does this. He knew I was easy.

...

I turn over in bed, still feeling slightly drunk. Oh fuck. The sensation of nausea overwhelmed me, and I hurriedly stumbled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. Barely making it to the toilet, I sank to my knees, clutching my hair back to keep it out of the way. The retching sounds filled the air as my stomach rebelled, and I vomited into the toilet. I flush it down and sit my back against the counter, sitting on the floor. Fucking hell, I felt like I got hit by a bus.

Tom came in the room shirtless with sweats, he had his dreads tied up. He looked to fucking good. As he crouched down next to me, he placed a cigarette between my lips, his fingers brushing against my skin with a gentle touch.With a steady hand, he lit the cigarette, the flame casting a soft glow in the dim room.

"Little hungover babe?"

"The smell of puke didn't show that?" He laughed and got up from the floor. I pick myself up and finish my cig as I throw Toms shirt on and some sweats.

We head down and Taylor has the island full on food already. My pounding headache begged for some relief, so I grabbed a cup of coffee and Advil, hoping to ease the hangover.

As I tried to nurse my headache, Taylor made a suggestion that caught my attention. "Hot tub anyone?" she asked, her gaze fixed on me. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Taylor, it's almost winter," I pointed out, hesitant about the idea of a hot tub in the chilly weather.

She shrugged, undeterred. "So? It's warm for a reason, and there's nothing else to do."

"The girls are on their own for a few hours, we've got business." Tom said as he put on a jacket, grabbing his car keys. George and Marie came down. The guys, said their goodbyes and headed out. I went upstairs, putting on my bikini and putting his shirt back over it.