•Tom's P.O.V•
"He could have any woman he wants, you know." The blonde woman mumbled.
Her hair soft as silk, and flowing, like a cascade down her slim back.
She wore a soft knit sweater of emerald green, a pair of high waisted white shorts, along with black Chuck Taylor's.
"He usually does," I replied just as quietly, leaning up against the desk in her private study.
Bebe had invited me over, to which, I gladly accepted- I knew she had heard what happened. I would have told her anyway, but, for some strange reason, Elyssa found it fit to tell the fragile blonde woman the whole ordeal.
To which, Bebe nearly lost it.
She had practically broken down, I found it a bit over dramatic.
Yet, everyone knew how madly in love Bebe was with Steven.
He could be extremely pissy--in one of his moods, that is--and she'd just watch him with loving eyes and an 'in awe' smile.
I thought she was psychotic, and, it certainly wasn't a good choice for her to make. Being as..Steven didn't reciprocate as much love, as Bebe did.
"She's just my girlfriend, man." Steven would scoff and laugh, shrugging and rubbing at the back of his neck, when asked about future plans.
"I miss him, Tom," she uttered softly, her big blue eyes stared down at her lap, dark lashes fluttering softly, before she then peered up at me.
She was stunning, her figure seemed to glow as she basked in the sunlight's gleam, which casted onto her soft skin from the window in the center of the wall, to the left of where we sat. Her hair shone like pure gold, and I found it difficult to look away.
"That's what everyone says," I took in a breath.
Her brows furrowed a little, her lips tightly shutting in a distasteful--slightly confused--mannerism.
My gaze quickly fell from my lap, to her eyes again, before my lap once more as I sighed and crossed my ankle to rest on my kneecap.
"I'm sorry, Isabelle—"
"You can call me Bebe, Tom..Everyone does, you know." She suddenly interjected, her expression soft as she offered a shy smile.
I seemed to draw an absolute blank, before my glaze flitted about the room, and I merely nodded a little, perhaps a bit shyly. "Alright..Bebe," I tried it out a bit, and sighed softly, deciding it was okay.
Her shy smile only grew more confident, as her head tilted to the other side, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, bangs in her eyes.
Clearing my throat, I crossed my leg over the other, letting my gaze fall upon my knees.
Bebe seemed to notice the tension, and she chose to -hesitantly- sit beside me.
Her frame slowly lowered on the couch, her elbow rested on the back of the sofa, and her head rested against her palm.
Her lips were curled into a gentle smile as her eyes moved to different parts of my face.
"Is that it?"
"What?" Bebe's lashes fluttered in confusion as her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed.
"Did you want to talk about what happened, a little more? Or, are you all settled?" I questioned with the clearing of my throat, checking my watch with squinted eyes, before peering back up to her soft expression with slight embarrassment.
"Well, I mean- you and Steven
Are close, aren't you?" She asked softly.
Almost seeming offended, I looked to her and nodded firmly.
"Since highschool, he's my best friend," I informed her quickly, almost as if I was humored by her question.
It was true, Steven and I had been best friend's since highschool. Joe on the other hand had merely been friends with Steven since the older brunette and I graduated.
Of course, I kind of saw through their little charades, Joe being oblivious to it, but, Steven saw more in Joe. Was it sexual? More than likely, did anyone really know? You betcha. Did anyone care? Not at all. It humored most of us, being as, Steven figured no one knew at all.
In some cases, he was right. Yet, that was why the rumor of Joey and Steven being gay together sprung up. Steven wanted to cover his tracks, he would occasionally kiss the drummer on stage, and Joey would just think it was for humor purposes, and gag for gimmicks, before carrying on.
Then again, no one really saw the wheels turning in Stevens mind, knowing his clever layouts for the public. That's why he had me, to confide in, to catch on to his plans, understand and support him.
"Tom," Bebe whispered breathlessly, brushing my blonde bangs from my eyes as her smile was inviting, yet, shy.
I chewed on my inner cheek, looking to her with uncertainty.
What game is she playing?
•Marilyn's P.O.V•
After a bit of consoling, I had chose to find comfort in a chair, across from Steven.
"Hey," I mumbled softly.
Steven's tired eyes slowly looked up from his lap, his lashes fluttering, showing he was resting for a moment. "Hm?"
"I wanted to..apologize," I spoke quietly, furrowing my brows as I cast my gaze to the side, looking away briefly.
"I'm not sure why I got so emotional, like that– I didn't mean to force you into a pity party, or, to make you feel like you had to share such private information with me." My voice had fallen to just above a whisper.
Steven's expression was still tired, but, he managed a little smile and his eyes had softened, becoming gentle and inviting, almost as if he was straining to ignore his tiredness. "When a wolf goes solo, they don't survive as well as if in a pack. Where love and the affection of a family is passed around, even if the pack contains just two wolves–" he then paused and his tired eyes slowly flicked to fall upon Calvin—whom was currently asleep with his magazine tightly in his arms—before he looked back to me. "And a pup," he added.
My expression had been blank for a moment, taking in his softness and kind demeanor.
For some odd reason, I couldn't help but think:
He's just tired Marilyn. You've seen how he's behaved, you need to keep your chin up and just let his Nonsense roll off your shoulders, he's luring you in.
However, I smiled a bit coyly, and crossed a leg over the other, looking down at My hands which I rested onto my kneecaps.
By the time I looked back up, he rested his head against the window, and curled up beneath his thin coat, purring softly as his eyes were closed.
•Steven's P.O.V•
"You're sweating," Her voice spoke just above a whisper.
Bebe's eyes weren't as widely open and reflecting as much passion as per usual. Instead, her gaze was focused on me, lids lowered out of tiredness. Long strands of golden hair misplaced and Ruffled from the pillow where she had lay her head during sleep just moments ago.
It took me a few moments to actually settle, having just woken up in a partial daze- and anxiousness. Casting my gaze towards the slits in the blinds- which allowed the moonlight to pour in and glow upon the white walls of the bedroom- I took a moment to register the blondes words.
"How about that," I retorted with slight sarcasm out of annoyance, due to be awoken.
Bebe then frowned, her brows furrowing a tad bit as well.
"Bad dream?" She whispered and brushed the few strands of dark locks that seemed to stick to my forehead, clung to the sweat excreted from each pore.
"I guess so." I mumbled, exhaling Sharply after regaining a bit of composure.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She pressed.
"No."
Absolutely not...I didn't want to explain why I dreamt of a woman- or even about the downfall of the relationship Bebe and I had so carefully built. It wouldn't settle well with her, at least not at this hour.
"You're being cold," she mumbled quietly, her expression hurt- yet somewhat sympathetic.
However, her dainty Palm moved to my forearm- and gently began to shake my limb.
She grew a little more forceful, and by then I couldn't hear her voice- but only see her lips move and her expression change.
"Steven."
"Steven.."
"Steven."
My lids fluttered open suddenly, the piercing light irritating me tremendously.
Scrambling to sit up, I pawed at my eyes and squinted- peering up to see Marilyn before me, her hand gently shaking my arm.
"Hey," she offered a weak smile and sighed.
"It's time to go."