PROMMMMMMMMMM
1. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, he thinks, for the tenth time in a row. It wouldn’t be the end, if she said no. Sure, he’d been rehearsing all week, and he had stayed awake all last night, staring at the ceiling (not contemplating all the ways she would say no, and certainly not charlie-brown-questioning the meaning of life and love to the blank wall). But. it wouldn’t be the end. His heart would shatter into tiny little pieces, sure, but like magnets, they’d snap back into place the moment she smiled at him.
It’s Sunday morning, and he’s made pancakes for breakfast. Joe’s got his eyes closed, patting his belly contently, and Iris is happily finishing the last bites of the blueberries and whipped cream. He knows she’ll skip up to her room in a few moments and staaaare out her window before going over to his room (usually to wake him, and) to complain about how weekends were really meant to be a threesome. So he’s got just a few minutes for the ask. He drops his dishes in the sink, and runs outside. The flowers are still in the garage, thank god, but they’re tinged a little darker than they were when he’d picked them up yesterday. He grabs them, the dusty old boombox, and sets up outside her window.