#stybe

“Kyle, don’t move or I’m going to accidentally stab you with the needle,” Bebe chastised around the pins in her mouth, picking them out one at a time to pin certain portions of cloth to Kyle’s hip every now and then, trying to see if it worked, before dismantling it and trying it a different way. “If you’re going to be my model for my final project in design school, you’re going to have to learn to stay still and pose properly.”

Kyle simmered, grumbling, “I didn’t even ask to be your model, Jesus, Bebe.”

“You didn’t have to,” was the blonde’s casual reply, painted pink lips smiling amidst all the pins in her mouth as she added, “I decided you were perfect, and here we are - stop whining, you’re getting a perfect score in your next final for helping me because I pulled some strings, aren’t you?”