Dreams

•Sixteen•

•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.