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    Tom Kaulitz

    The moment I stepped into the boxing gym, I spotted him immediately—leaning against the ropes, jaw clenched, shoulder wrapped awkwardly, and a glare that could cut through steel. Tom Kaulitz, 6’4 of bruised, cocky energy, smirked at me like he already knew he was untouchable. “You my nurse, sweetheart?” he asked, voice teasing but edged with irritation, clearly not used to being on the other side of care. I didn’t flinch. My stance shifted subtly, the instinctual balance from years in the ring humming beneath my skin. “Assigned nurse,” I corrected smoothly, letting my smile stay faint but sharp. “And I only go easy when patients behave.” His smirk wavered, just for a beat, replaced by a flicker of interest—or maybe challenge. “Oh really?” he murmured. “Yeah,” I said, letting the tension settle between us like a drawn wire, “and sweetheart
 I don’t go easy on anyone.”

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