Surrender -Tom kaulitz-

8.

I stretched my arms out yawning. It was really sunny inside and I noticed the window was left open. I freed myself from under the thick covers and stumbled grumpily towards the wooden opening, slapping it shut.

I was only wearing my top from last night with baggy shorts Gustav nicely lent me for sleeping.

The sound of the window closing awoke my friend who shot up from his laying position. "What the fuck ?" He glared at me.

"Morning." I smiled despite my morning bad mood.

"Gosh..." Gustav mumbled, getting up from his bed and walking towards me. "Tonight's the competition, isn't it ?"

I nodded with pursed lips as I took out my cigarette pack. "I'm not even nervous. I've been preparing myself for it since fucking May. I'm not even going to overthink it."

"Yeah, I get it." He scratched the back of his neck. He sighed. "I want to quit Tokio Hotel..."

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at Gustav as I waited for him to elaborate.

"I just want to move to Paris with my girlfriend and become a drum teacher. That's all I want and I feel like the rest of the band isn't as supportive as I wished they would be."

I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, I know. They're just afraid to lose you, to lose what you guys have. Try to understand them, it's more complicated than you think."

"If I win the competition and I get the scholarship like I hope, I'm leaving by June. But I just don't want to be separated from them and I don't want our end to be bad. I just want them to accept that I have to grow up."

I massaged my temples. This was way too much of a deep talk for me to handle. "Look, Gustav, I would love to have this conversation with you but I'm really hungover and really need coffee."

He laughed softly. "Got it." He walked out the room to get us some morning fuel as I just sat by the window, smoking my morning cig.

"Holy shit..." A raspy groan made me turn to its source and a hungover tall guitarist was standing next to the mattress. "What time is it ?" Tom asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"It's nine in the morning." I exhaled the smoke as my eyes travelled from his toned abs to his long messy dread locs that fell on his thick shoulders.

"Don't cream your pants." He smirked, walking in my direction. I looked down rapidly, ashamed that he caught me checking him out. He took a seat next to me and I handed him a cigarette. He smiled, mouthing a light 'thank you' before he lit it up.

"So what's your schedule today ?" He maintained eye contact as he inhaled the toxic smoke.

"I have to be in the studio by 11. So maybe half an hour before I leave to my house. I need to change before I go to practice."

"Do you want me to drive you home ?"

"No, I'm okay. I brought my bike with me."

"That's cute." He grinned and I couldn't help the smile curling up my lips. But a slight shameful expression appeared in his face. "I'm sorry, by the way. For last night. I was a bit drunk and maybe seemed a little too forward at times. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way."

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden honesty and kindness this man had just delivered. I laughed softly. "That's okay. Besides, I was just getting used to little Flirty Audacious Tom." I commented, drawing quotations marks with my fingers. "But keep it in your pants. That would be very much appreciated."

He looked down in embarrassment as small raspy laughters escaped his lips. I couldn't help but stare at his perfectly drawn smile with the lip piercing and the smoke coming out of it as he laughed.