Pain of Love - Tom Kaulitz

Takes One to Know One

I swallow, suppressing any noise threatening to escape my throat as he walks me backwards, my body pressed against the now closed door. Looking around the small confines of the storage room we're in, I realise I'm completely defenceless.

"What did I fucking say about getting into trouble, huh?" Tom hisses, fingers curling around my upper arm in a tight grip.

I'd never say that I'm afraid of Tom, but in moments like these I hold an exception. It's impossible not to be when his tall frame towers over mine, holding me with a tight grip that uses not even half of his strength, his temper nothing short of flared. The air is thick with an unpredictability of what he might do, with unspoken words, and if it weren't for my own mirrored anger I'd probably stand down, intimidation getting the better of me.

But, instead I remain strong, not ready to let Tom win just yet. I stay silent, head turned to the side, my actions seeming to affect him more than any sharp comeback would.

A strange satisfaction washes over me as his eyes narrow, knowing I've pushed his buttons more than once tonight. And when I fail to answer his question, he grips the base of my jaw with his free hand, directing my head up to look up at him, thumb under my chin and fingers on my cheek.

"Answer me," he grits out, words clipped with demand.

"Or what? You gonna kill me?" I taunt, glaring up at him.

Tom lets out a dry scoff at my comment, rolling his jaw in frustration. "Lose the fucking attitude. You can't even do as I say and now you're acting smart with me?"

"I don't have to do anything you say, Tom," I retort with venom. "Now let go of me."

Tom's jaw twitches, the rise and fall of his chest an indication of his frustration. Despite this, he listens and removes his hands from my body. I release a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"You knew what you were doing," he begins, his lips curling into a sneer.

"And what was that, exactly?" I say, batting my lashes at him with a feigned innocence.

"Letting that fucker touch you in front of me," he says harshly, unmistakable jealousy embedded into his perfect features as he begins to pace, gesturing roughly to outside the door. He speaks up once more before I have the chance to defend myself. "Y'know, you should be more grateful, what do you think would've happened if I didn't step in?"

"I had it under control." The words come out more defensively than intended, as if trying to convince myself too, not even wanting to consider what could've happened if Tom didn't intervene. However I am far too stubborn to ever admit that to him.

"And I wouldn't have even done it if you didn't flirt with that blonde as if I wasn't right there!" I continue, jabbing a finger harshly into his chest.

"That was meaningless and none of your business. I can flirt with who I want," he retorts carelessly, clearly not seeing where he's gone wrong.

"And I can't?" I snip incredulously. "Listen, Tom. If you want to continue to fuck other women, then go for it. But don't expect me to wait around on the side lines, acting as if we're something more. You have no right to get jealous when I'm with other guys."

"You're not seeing other guys," he snarls, suddenly cutting me off.

My lips part, hardly able to believe what I'm hearing. "Are you fucking serious? You are not making that decision for me! If I wanted to kiss that guy out there I can. It's my decision, I don't need you coming to the rescue and causing a scene."

"You're lucky I didn't kill him," Tom snaps, his jaw set. "But you're right. Maybe next time I'll let you figure it out yourself. It'll be your fucking funeral though."