being the daughter of a mobster certainly wasnt for the weak. all of his decisions crashed down on you rather hard, like a sort of padding before shit hit the fan.

today is a day like no other, going for your morning run in all the same, trusted places. you'd learned theses route, through the forest where you're certain nobody would be at this time. but youre wrong.

jogging through, a twig snaps rather loudly over your headphones. it wasnt you. by instincts, you whip your head around.. but hes not back there. you find that out directly after you run into his chest, your eyes stinging as the chloroform handkerchief covers your mouth and nose

you wake up bound to a chair in a dimly lit room- or at least you're fairly certain its dim.. you can only force your eyes open a tiny bit, hardly seeing anything beyond your thick lashes. but you dont need to see to recognise his voice

fuck. tom kaulitz.

you've ran into him before, only once where you had been at each others neck. but now, hes laughing at you. you can hear the taunt. he's responsible.

your father had many enemies, buy his biggest issue was always Otto Kaulitz himself... and now, his som stood before you with a wicked grin

"not so feisty anymore, hm, princess?" i drips, tilting his head