oh, anna [-hs]

ballerina

a/n hi! are you ready to do a little travelling? Quinn and Harry are!

31.

"Well, this is it," Emma sighs sadly. I smile and hold my arms out for her. She does her best to keep a straight face as she wraps herself around me, hugging tightly. "I'm going to miss you so freaking much," she whispers in my ear. I run my hand over her hair gently.

"Yeah me too," I reassure her, and I mean it. I'm going to miss her desperately. "But I'll only be gone for two weeks."

"That's forever," she groans, like I just reminded her of the true reality of the situation. She pulls away from me and stuffs her hands into her jean pockets, turning to stare pointedly at Harry behind me. "If you even think about hurting her I'm going to murder you in your sleep."

He raises his eyebrows, surprised by her candid anger, and adjusts the bags he's holding. "Noted," he teases. I glance at my watch.

"Alright we have to go if we're going to get through security in time," I push us all along. Emma huffs like a toddler and rolls her eyes.

"I suppose you do."

"I love you baby," I pull her into one last hug and she squeezes me real tight before reluctantly pulling away.

"I love you too."

"Shall we?" Harry offers. I nod and pick up my suitcase off the ground, walking into the airport with him. Halfway to the door I turn back and give her a small wave. She waves back, and then turns and slides into her car. The sounds and smells of the airport filter in. "It was nice of her to give us a ride," he decides.

"Yeah," I smile to myself. He doesn't say much after that, just adjusts his grip on his suitcase. We make our way through security, boarding our plane and throwing our carry-ons up into the compartment before sliding into our seats together. I take out my "Lights Up" pre-production folder, flipping it open to the first page and going over our first shoot day one more time. Harry pokes me in the side while pulling out a set of earbuds.

"You've looked over that at least ten times since we got in the car. I think you probably know it by heart now."

"I know I'm just nervous," I confess, glancing through the different photographs we have. Last week we took a bunch of photos for outfit planning with his stylist. I hold one between my fingers, rubbing them back and forth against the slippery film. His expression brings a smile to my face.

He rests his head against my shoulder. "You like that one?" I nod.

"Quite the model," I tease. He rolls his eyes sheepishly and sits up straight again. "No come back," I mumble. He leans down again, nestling his ear against my shoulder. "I do like it, the dress seems familiar."

"That's because you've seen it before," he explains. "That dress was on display at NYFW in September."

"Really?" I laugh a little, looking closer at the photo. "I had no idea."