oh, anna [-hs]

the frenchman

a/n hello please enjoy. I like this one a lot. It is also fairly long.

7. 

ONE MONTH LATER.

"Hey, where are you?"

I step out further onto the sidewalk, my suitcase hitting the back of my heel, and lean out, trying to make out the different cars. Emma's nowhere to be found, so I look up at the number hanging above me. "Door seven."

"Mmm, still don't, oh wait! Yes! Yes I see you!" She cheers from the other end of the call. I grin, my head bobbing as I search the line. "Look to your right, further, further." I take a few steps back, my eyes scanning the long line of cars. There she is, leaning against a small, beige sedan.

"Hey there, stranger!" I begin jogging over to her, the phone still pressed to my ear. She hangs up, and I stuff it into my pocket. And then we're practically on top of each other. She wraps her arms tightly around me, like she's afraid I'll walk back into the airport and disappear for another month.

She pulls away, holding my shoulder and staring me up and down, like a mother looks at her child after they've been away at summer camp. "Look at you, you look so good!"

I grin, running my hand through my new hair. "What can I say, the French countryside inspired me."

"Ugh," she grins. "You look so good. Blonde suits you, don't change it back." I shake my head.

"No promises."

"And look at your clothes!" She spins me around, and I awkwardly follow the motions of her hands. I'm wearing a silky, sheer top over a piece of lacy black lingerie. A pair of soft linen pants hang from my belt. They're wide and the bottoms brush against my ankles when I walk. "You look so good."

"Alright, alright, enough about me," I chuckle awkwardly, pushing my suitcase back and forth.

"Umm, no. You need to tell me everything." She shakes her head and shoves me into the car, taking my case and throwing it in the back. I play with the strap of my handbag, knowing that Cherry is safely inside it. She slides into the driver's seat and starts the car, kicking the heat on.

"So, how was France?"

"Beautiful," I close my eyes and smile, thinking back to the rolling hills and acres of farms. "I spent the first week in Paris filming, and then the rest of the time by myself in the countryside at this little bed and breakfast in a tiny town called Saint-Jean-de-Vals, and I biked everywhere, and this is a weird one, but the coffee," I leaned back in the seat and hummed a little, remember how blissful and quiet the world had seemed.

"Did you pick up any French?" She asks, turning her attention to the road as she drives us home.

"Is this a rental?" My eyes pop back open, suddenly realizing where we are, and I run my hand over the faux leather interior. She smirks.