Fucked up || Tom Kaulitz

Race?

"No" Toms' voice a whisper. He wanted to never let go, to stay like this. Be like this. He didn't want to let go of the moment they held together. But no, he couldn't, he wouldn't let himself fall in love with her again. After all the hurt of their relationship how could he, it broke him. And it made him the way he is. "He just left" he mumbled realising everything must come to an end.

A year after Lydia left, Tom couldn't take it anymore. The fact his heart still longed for her made him mad, the fact he cared a bit made him mad. He wanted to erase any trace of Lydia that lingered on his heart and mind. That's when he met Kiara. Kiara was oh so hot that night at the club, Tom couldn't resist taking her home. Ever since that day they were in a relationship. At least that's what Tom made himself think. The empty 'I love you's'' lingered in the air all the time. Kiara was sweet, she was nice. She was pretty, her long blonde hair complimented her features nicely. Thought the whole relationship wasn't true, Tom wasn't in love with her. Of course he liked her, he loved being around her, but she still wasn't his first love. She wasn't Lydia. He was so mad at himself for feeling that way, he was mad he couldn't give Kiara what she wanted.

Lydia sighed, her hands finally let go of Toms' shirt stepping back. She looked up at him only to be met with his braids. His head fell down, his eyes looking at his shoes, he mumbled something to himself before turning around and leaving. Lydia stood there shocked, what was all of this? Why did he all of a sudden leave? Did she do something wrong? Was he uncomfortable because of her? The pain slowly intensified as he slowly got lost in the distance.

Her head was pounding, her heart was racing, but her body was warm. "Shit" she mumbled looking at his blazer grazing her skin. She took it off hurriedly walking in the direction of Tom. But once she looked back, he wasn't there anymore. The cold hit her skin harshly and Lydia cursed herself for taking the jacket off. Her heart hurt, she wanted that soft special moment to last for longer. Her body missed his already, and it was eating her inside out. Lydia decided that running after him in a tight dress, high heels and through the streets of Los Angeles probably wasn't the best idea. She turned around walking slowly into nothingness. Her head full of questions that were yet to be answered.

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Lydia shut the door of her hotel room, her back meeting the cold wood. She leaned her head back sighing to herself. Moments passed and Lydia still stayed in that position. Her body was tired, she was mentally drained. And she knew exactly what helped in these kind of situations. She smiled to herself walking over to her bed. Her fingertips slowly glazed the fabric of his blazer as she took it off. Lydia threw the black fabric onto her bed, her hands slowly undoing the zip of her dress. The fabric slid down her body leaving her skin naked, goosebumps rising on her skin. She felt cold again, she wanted nothing more than to be under the covers. To be comfortable, she wanted to be home. What saddened her was that she didn't know where home was. She didn't have a home. Her only home was him, his eyes, that sweet smile of his. Those warm hands that held her so gently, that scent, those stupid clothes of his. He was her home. She hated that.

Walking slowly to the closet she opened the doors, the smell of her clothing hitting her nostrils. She scanned the clothes, her body still shivering from the cold. Her hands gently stroked her upper arms to create warmth. She huffed to herself, her slender fingers grabbed a hoodie. The familiar german writing made her eyes widen. Lydia finally after all these years found Toms' sweatshirt that he gave her before he left. Lydia put the soft hoodie onto her, the fabric instantly warming her up as if it was worn seconds before. A pair of leggings hugged her legs as she put on sneakers. Looking at herself in the mirror one last time Lydia walked over to the door opening it in a halt. She locked it behind her putting a pair of sunglasses on, the hood of the hoodie sitting on top of her head as Lydia walked through the hallway to the elevator.