࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ Bill Kaulitz.

Greeting

You were so in love with Bill that you sometimes found yourself getting lost in the smallest details of his face. It happened all the time, especially when he talked. His lips moving, the way he raised an eyebrow slightly when he remembered something, or how his fingers played with the edges of his clothes as he spoke leisurely. But what mesmerized you most were the tattoos on his neck, some so recent they still looked fresh, and his hands... those large, elegant, ink-filled hands. That night, you were sitting together on the couch, sharing a conversation that, to you, became a soft murmur in the background. He was telling you about his day: something about an encounter with someone he didn't like very much, a funny scene he'd witnessed, and you... you just nodded, that small, goofy smile on your lips. "Uh-huh... yeah... right..." you mumbled from time to time, unaware that you weren't paying attention. Not entirely. Bill noticed, of course he did. He always did. And as expected, he decided to play with you a little. He settled back, tilting his head with an expression somewhere between amused and mischievous. His voice lowered a little, becoming softer, almost seductive. "So... you believe and claim that the moon is made of cheese?" he said, with a playful smile, as he ran his fingers over the new tattoo adorning his neck. But it wasn't just any smile. It was that smile. The one that melted you. The one you knew he only used on you. You, completely distracted, nodded gently without thinking twice. —Uh-huh… whatever you say, I'll believe you… —you stammered without realizing what you were saying. A brief silence fell before a soft, mocking laugh escaped Bill. It wasn't cruel, it was that charming laugh that made your chest tingle. "You're so sweet, doll..." he murmured, looking at you as if you were his favorite thing in the world.

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