oh, anna [-hs]

mixtape

a/n get ready for more CUTENESS

11.

We spend the rest of the day biking around the city, showing Harry our favorite spots. We stop at our go-to bookstore, and he scours the aisles for fifteen minutes, before finally brightening with excitement.

"Here!" He pulls one of the stories off the shelf. I peek over his shoulder to see the front cover.

"Love is a Mixtape," I read the words.

"Have you read it?" He glances back at me. I shake my head.

"I was more of a movie kid growing up," I shrug. He gently pushes the book towards me.

"Read it." He commands. I sigh but take it from his hands, flipping through the first few pages. "That is one of my favorite books."

"One of them," I tease. He shrugs. "Why?" I ask kinder.

"It's just a beautiful story," he tries to conceptualize his emotions. "You'll like it," he reassures himself and walks away. I follow behind him, the book lovingly tucked under my arm. After I buy it, he takes it from me and puts it into the bag where his new pants are.

We bike through Emma's favorite park, and then we stop at the farmer's market to pick up some ingredients for dinner. She stares down at a crate of potatoes pensively, and then looks up at him. "Do you want to stay for dinner, Harry?"

He shrugs playfully. "Nothing better to do."

She picks out six small, yellow potatoes.

We're biking back in the dark now, the day extravagantly spent. Harry climbs back onto his bike, when suddenly I get a familiar feeling.

"Hold on." I tell them, and reach for Cherry who is slung over my shoulder. His eyes light up, a bright orange clementine held in his mouth.

I press record and hold the camera up to capture him. He poses a little, straddling the bike.

"Say hello, Mr. Styles," I chuckle. He makes an inaudible, but happy noise from behind the clementine.

"Alright you two," Emma chastises, and bikes into frame, staring up at me from over the camera. "Let's go, I'm getting hungry."

I end the recording and sling Cherry back over my shoulder, and we travel back to the rental stand, replacing our bikes, and heading back to the car. The paper bag at Harry's side swings back and forth to his step.

We climb back into the car, the heat kicking on slowly and warming up our freezing fingers and noses. Harry begins carefully peeling his clementine, making sure not to make a mess in the back of the car. The scent of citrus erupts into the air. Emma sighs.

"That smells so good," she mumbles to herself. But he hears her and holds out some of the fruit for her. "Oh, thank you," she smiles a little and takes it from him.