Work Text:
Spring on the East Coast, Elle reflected, was nothing like spring in California. It was not the first time she’d had this thought; even though she’d been living in Boston for two years now, she still wasn’t used to how quickly the weather could change. Take today for instance: sunny one moment and pouring with rain the next. She watched it as it lashed heavily against the windows, turning the world outside into an impressionistic blur. The background white-noise of it made her feel drowsy, and after a long day of classes and studying, she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with Emmett and Bruiser and do nothing.
But she and Emmett were supposed to be going out tonight: a rare trip to a fancy restaurant to celebrate the end of his time representing Callahan’s (now officially) ex-wife.
The divorce had been long, drawn-out, and extremely ugly, and though Emmett had never been anything but completely professional, Elle knew it had been tough for him having to see Callahan on a regular basis. He hated even being in the same room as his former boss, let alone actually having to interact with him, and he always came home tense and quiet whenever the two parties were required to meet. She was glad he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.
Pushing away her notes, Elle glanced at her phone. Emmett had promised he would text when he was on his way, but she hadn’t heard from him yet, which meant he must be running late. She’d better start getting ready so they could leave as soon as he got home.
“Come on, Bruiser,” she said, picking up the little dog and taking him through to the bedroom, “time to make ourselves pretty.”
She was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup when she heard Emmett’s key in the lock. She glanced at the time again. They were cutting it a bit fine, but if they left within half an hour, they would probably still make it. Congratulating herself on her forethought and good timing, she called, “I’m in the bathroom!”
She heard him make a small sound of acknowledgement, followed by his footsteps down the corridor and the door swinging open.
“Hey,” she turned around, smiling, “how was your-” She cut herself short, swallowing the rest of her sentence.
A very bedraggled Emmett stood in the bathroom doorway. His clothes were sodden and dripping, his hair was plastered to his head and his expression was uncharacteristically sour.
“Um-”
He pointed at her, “Don’t laugh.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to,” she lied, biting the inside of her cheek.
“It’s raining,” he said.
She nodded. A bead of water dripped off the end of his nose.
“Do you want a towel?”
“Yes, please.”
She handed one to him, unable to hold back her smile as he buried his face in it.
“You’re laughing at me,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.
“I would never.”
“What time is it?”
She glanced at her phone and winced, but made her voice light and breezy, “Don’t worry, we’ve got time.”
He lifted his head from the towel to check his watch and groaned, “Liar.” Backing out of the tiny bathroom and into their bedroom, he started peeling his wet clothes off, shooting her a weary, apologetic look through the open door as he did so, “I’m sorry, I told Alison I needed to leave on time today but the call I was on ran over, and then the rain… It was so nice this morning, I didn’t bring my umbrella.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Elle said, following him through to the bedroom. She frowned as she watched him pull off his shirt; his arms were covered in goosebumps and stepping closer, she could practically feel the cold coming off his chilled skin. She reached out to press a hand gently to his back as he rifled through the closet for a clean shirt, stilling him, “Em, you’re frozen. You should have a hot bath or a shower or something.”
He hesitated, turning to face her, “But…what about dinner? We don’t have time-”
She made a dismissive noise, slipping her arms around his waist, “I didn’t really want to go out in this weather anyway. Why don’t we just get takeaway tonight, and go out next weekend instead? Then maybe your mom could come too.”
“Are you sure?”
Elle smiled, tapping him lightly on the nose, “Positive.”
He relaxed at once, his shoulders falling flat and his head dropping down onto her shoulder, “Thanks, babe.”
“You’re welcome. Come on, I’ll call the restaurant to let them know we won’t make it, you shower. I don’t want you getting sick."
He scoffed, “You know I never get sick.”
It was annoyingly true that he hadn’t gotten sick in the entire time she’d known him, but that didn’t soothe her concern completely. So she ushered him into the bathroom, waiting until he was definitely under the water before she went to call the restaurant.
(Using her nicest, most apologetic voice, she managed to sweet-talk the employee at the restaurant into giving her a new booking with an extra seat for next Saturday evening – no small feat at this particular eatery – and hung up extremely satisfied.)
When she came back to the bedroom, she found Emmett fresh out of the shower, pulling on a clean t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit pants. He looked much happier than he had when he’d arrived home: relaxed and warm and (mostly) dry, and she couldn’t resist wandering over to hug him and breathe in the fresh scent of his body wash.
“Hey,” he said, “all good?”
She hummed an affirmative, “I’ve got us a table for 7pm next Saturday, with a seat for your mom if she can come.”
“Perfect. Sorry again for the change of plans.” He gave her a kiss, then pulled back a little bit to study her, “You look beautiful by the way.”
Warmth flooded her from head to toe, and she kissed him again, “Thank you.”
“So what do you wanna get for dinner?”
The rest of the evening passed exactly as Elle had wished it would: peacefully, with just her and Emmett and Bruiser, wrapped up in their own little world. Emmett let her blow dry his hair, something which always made those soft curls of his stand out even more than usual. In return, she let him pick what they got for dinner. He settled on pizza from a pizzeria that had become a favourite of theirs in Elle’s freshman year – it would always remind her of long nights in her dorm room with Emmett, of the satisfaction that came with hard work and the sweetness of slowly falling in love.
When their food arrived, they curled up on the couch to eat it, and told each other about their days, and eventually wound up, as they often did, with Emmett stretched out in Elle’s arms, his head on her chest, their legs twined together. Jealous of the attention, Bruiser left his basket to come and settle himself in the small of Emmett’s back, and before long, all three of them were close to dozing off while the rain still poured outside.
Perhaps, Elle thought, as she pressed a light kiss to Emmett’s forehead and heard him let out a small, contented sigh, the unpredictable East Coast weather wasn’t such a bad thing after all.