(A/N: Well, here it is. First fanfiction I've written in at least a year. I love Emmett and Elle, and I get bored of writing my depressing poetry sometimes. So, FLUFF is the answer. It's post-trial (two weeks, obviously, if you read). Not my best, but hey, I'm sleepy.)
Tangerine light streamed through the parted, pink curtains, falling onto a peachy, flushed with sleep girl. Her eyelashes dusted her cheeks, and her blonde hair flowed effortlessly onto the pillows (which were, of course, pink) and framed her face perfectly. Emmett smiled, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his eyes, already having spread to his blue eyes. He moved to the corner of her bed, and he couldn't help but admire the way the light played with her hair. Resisting the urge to brush it out of her face, he leaned against the wall, waiting for her to wake up. Elle was so adorable when she slept; he didn't know why he'd never noticed. Was it the books that he was reading when they studied?
Emmett exhaled and shifted so his back was against the wall, looking around the room. So much pink. He remembered the first time he entered the room. It had all taken him by surprise. I mean, it made sense for Elle to have a pink room, but just… so much pink! Any guy (gay, European, or just a Warner) would be shocked into nervous laughter.
The next few months would hold some of the best memories of Emmett's life from secret handshakes, just drinking Red bull until four in the morning, and arguments over who was wrong or right (loser was normally too tired to fight by the end of it). Christmas… ah, how could Emmett forget? He'd walked in on two squealing blondes, one being Elle, the other Paulette, according to Elle. He'd given her his gift (2-in-1 hair care), and right as he had his arms around her and was realizing how, at risk of being corny, right it felt. Down went her IQ, and, well… Emmett didn't have time to ponder the rest.
How could it take all of ten minutes of memories to realize how kissable she looked? He laughed at his impulses, rubbing his neck nervously.
What the hell?
He leaned down and kissed her lips softly, wondering whether it'd wake her up, but it did. He jumped back, turning around and cursing under his breath, hating himself more by the minute. It was so like Callahan; Emmett shuddered at the comparison. Even after a couple weeks, the thought of Elle almost leaving was too much for him to bear. Turning around gritting his teeth, Emmett opened his clenched shut eyes.
"Emmett?"
Elle's voice was so cute when she was tired.
"God, Elle, I'm so sorry… That was so Callahan, and I know you don't-"
"Emmett, shut up."
He stopped, mouth open in shock. She hates me. God, I'm so stupid.
She ran her hands through her hair and rolled over to look at him.
"Nice wake-up call, Forrest."
"Erm… thanks?"
Elle interrupted by rolling back over.
"But I don't think I'm fully awake yet."
Emmett smiled and kissed her again.