L.A. was loud — even at night. Horns, sirens, hotel staff clacking around in the lobby. But up on the rooftop, the city felt far away. The sky was purple, stretched with smog and stars, and the air smelled like concrete and heat.
Tom tugged Isadora's hand as they pushed open the service door, a bag of gummy worms in one hand and his hoodie halfway falling off.
“Finally,” he exhaled, flopping down onto an old lounge chair. “No managers, no paparazzi, no moms.”
“No rules,” Isadora added with a grin, settling next to him and stealing a gummy worm.
Tom looked over at her, eyes trailing from her choker to the little silver hoop in her nose to the light streaks in her hair. Her flannel was hanging off one shoulder, and the tattoo on her hip peeked out just above her waistband like a secret.
His secret.
He leaned back on his elbows and exhaled.
“Ias…”
She turned toward him, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. “Yeah?”
Tom hesitated. “This is gonna sound dumb, but… you wanna be my girlfriend? Like… for real?”
She blinked.
Then smiled. “Tom.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re an idiot.”
He frowned. “Okay, ouch—”
She cut him off by leaning in and kissing him.
Soft, slow, the kind of kiss that felt like a “yes” before she even said it.
She pulled back just enough to whisper, “Of course I do, Kaulitz.”
Next thing he knew, they were cuddled up on the rooftop, hoodie wrapped around both of them, cheeks pink from the air and each other. They passed gummy worms back and forth like a weird little romantic ritual, joking about how their managers were probably in panic mode.
“You know Simone’s probably sharpening a wooden spoon,” Tom said.
Isadora snorted. “My mom’s planning to send me back to Brazil in a shipping crate.”
They both cracked up.
“Maybe we’ll get matching tattoos that say ‘grounded forever,’” Isadora joked.
Tom grinned, brushing her hair away from her face. “Only if mine goes right here.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
They made out a little more — tangled up in hoodie sleeves and warm hands, the city lights flickering like confetti below them.
YOU ARE READING
"Strings Between Us
Romance2004. Germany. Tom Kaulitz is used to getting what he wants - the stage, the crowd, the girls. As Tokio Hotel begins to rise, so does his ego... until she shows up. She's the Brazilian guitarist in a rival band - quiet, sharp-tongued, and completely...
