'So it's not fucking raining.' Emerson remarked, hearing Chris sigh on the other end of the phone as she pulled up outside Brie's house. Her small Bose speaker was nestled in her hand, as she reversed into the driveway of her hopefully soon-to-be girlfriend's house. She saw Chris' car at the beginning of the street, uninformed he could've used Brie's driveway.
A glint of blonde, short hair altered Emerson that Brie was home, which made her insides bubble with trepidation. She inhaled sharply, before beginning to play her 80s playlist, the Bose speaker screaming out music. Her heart jumped, before her hand reached to turn it down. Emerson tucked a lock of artificial red hair behind her ear, before pushing her car door open, walking up to Brie's front door.
She jumped awkwardly on Brie's lawn, trying to somehow shake off the nerves that creeped under her skin. Her hands trembled, and her stomach twisted itself, thunderstorms of fear beginning to stir as she approached Brie's house. She looked around slightly, seeing Chris holding the green hose in his hand, which made her roll her eyes and shake her head.
'Wait... he does know it's just a joke right?' Emerson mumbled to herself, but shook her head, reassuring herself that she did.
Then, with the sun glaring in her eyes, she leant down and picked up a small rock — one she had deemed not strong enough to break a window if she threw it up there. She had ignored it's sharp edges upon launching it, hearing the ear-shattering sound of glass breaking as the grey stone collided with Brie's window.
'Fuck!' She exclaimed, seeing Brie approach the window. She fumbled, bringing out her speaker as Brie furrowed her eyebrows, seeing Emerson down there.
'Em? What are you doing here?' Brie inquired, but the red head held up her mini speaker above her head, blasting ( terrible ) eighties music. Brie giggled slightly, shaking her head as she began to gather what was happening.
But — out of nowhere — a squeal escaped Emerson's mouth as cool, icy water collided with her boiling body — Chris holding the hose up, water blasting against her skin. She shrieked, running away as she ditched her speaker on the ground.
'Fuck, Chris! Fucking hell, what are you doing?' She glared at him, and he quickly turned the hose off, scampering away from the angered Emerson.
Terrifying eighties music played from her now drenched speaker, the audio crackling and from a horror movie levels of creepy. Brie was completely mental at the seen, loud laughs escaping her mouth as she watched as Emerson stumbled around to regain herself.
'What's going on, Em?' She managed to force out through giggles.
'Well — this was meant to be a romantic eighties styled proclamation of love, but the forecast was wrong and there was no rain today — and I wasn't able to rent out those huge black speakers because they're fucking hard to find and heavier than a ton of bricks, and my acid-wash denim jacket was... in the wash. So, I guess now it's just me — soaked from a hose, holding my now ruined speaker, asking you — Brie Larson — if you would like to be my girlfriend again.' Emerson declared, and Brie smiled with sympathetic eyes, before walking away from the window.
Emerson was suspended in fear as she heard the door click, watching as Brie approached her — but before she managed to object to Brie's refusal, her lips were met with Brie's warm ones. Emerson wrapped her arms around Brie's waist, and smiled as they kissed.
'Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend again.'
