<div class="floatleft">(https://imgur.com/MyXF7VZ.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Emma Grey (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=337584.msg16026944#msg16026944)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Patio table<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong><del>Black jacket</del>, Black top, Belt, Jeans, Sneakers<br/><strong>Content Warning</strong>:<br/><strong>Optional</strong><br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Patio Posse (Chloe, Jonathan, Lance)<br/><hr/><br/>If chicken was a game that you could play while flirting, Emma had just won. That was what she chose to take away from the encounter anyway. Emma laughed playfully, a note of drunken mirth edging into her giggling, as Jonathan lifted one of her legs and extracted them both from a situation that could have dangerously heated up if it had been left to simmer.<br/><br/>The position that she ended up in felt decidedly less sexy. Emma felt more like she was about to ask Jonathan to read her a story or start telling him what she wanted for Christmas. Her hand reached out unexpectedly to Jonathan's face, the back of her fingers brushing along his jawline. Man, she kind of wished Jonathan had a beard.<br/><br/>Emma was firmly in Stage 1 of 'The Five Stages of Drunk Emma.' In case it wasn't already clear, Stage 1 Emma was a social creature that had a knack for having more fun than she should and touching things she shouldn't. What did that shirt feel like? That person's hair? Jonathan's face? These were all questions that needed answers without the interference of pesky things like asking for permission.<br/><br/>"<strong>Hm?</strong>" The contents of the bottle that Emma had run off with sloshed around when she tilted it to look down at it. Between herself and those that had taken a drink or two from it, the Patrón was already teetering somewhere near the halfway mark. If someone didn't get that bottle away from her, Emma would doubtlessly hit Stage 2 soon. And nobody wanted that because that Emma was a Woo Girl. The problem was convincing her to give it up, and with the reflexive pout Emma gave at the mention of sharing her precious, that would be easier said than done.<br/><br/>Lance had steered the conversation toward something more sexual. Surprise. Emma was in a more receptive mood now though, and with a few others venturing out before her, Emma felt compelled to chime in. "<strong>Back of a mustang in a Wal-mart parking lot.</strong>" It wasn't a penthouse downtown or a yacht out on the ocean, highlighting just how alien Emma was in company like this. She didn't seem terribly phased by the contrast though, no doubt thanks to the bottle that she had taken to guarding with a hug.<br/><br/>"<strong>His parents were strict and so were mine, so we had to get creative sometimes. A police officer ended up knocking on the window. My boyfriend did all the talking while I tried to die in the back. In the end, he let us go with a warning.</strong>" Emma was able to laugh about it now, but it was one of the most embarrassing moments of her life in the moment.