oh, anna [-hs]

cherry wine

43.

On my last day of production for the music video, Harry picks me up from work.

I walk out to see him leaning against his car. When he notices me, he uncrosses his arms and shifts his weight to stand up straight. His sunglasses slide down his nose. I take in what he's wearing. It looks like half of a suit, a white shirt buttoned up halfway and blue dress pants. Even his shoes look expensive today, black and shiny against the pavement.

"Hey," I call out as I approach him, adjusting my bag and Cherry on my shoulder. He grins.

"Quinn," he starts, like he's about to ask me something. I stop walking and cross my arms over my chest, waiting. His tongue rolls over his bottom lip and he tries not to smile. "I need your help with something."

He opens the passenger door to his car and gestures for me to climb in. "What is this?" I murmur, following his lead to pull myself up into the seat. He slams the car door without explaining any further.

I huff and roll my eyes, waiting for him to come around and sit in the driver's seat. He slides into the car next to me and moves the vehicle out of park, resting his hand on my shoulder and turning his head to back out of the spot and drive off.

"Harry," I warn teasingly. He stuffs his tongue into his cheek to stop his smile.

"It's not a big deal. It'll make you happy," he brushes aside my comment. "Come on, let's listen to the radio." He flicks the controls to let a stream of heavy pop music flood the car.

I stare at him expectantly, but he doesn't say anything more. His fingers drum against the steering wheel. He presses his lips together in a thin line to hide his smile. I see his eyes dart over to look at mine every couple of seconds.

"Tell me what's going on," I laugh.

He shrugs and pretends to seal his lips. I tilt my head and slowly blink, fluttering my eyelashes.

"Baby," I let the word melt from my mouth. He shakes his head at my attempt to seduce information out of him.

"Not going to work," he declares, but I see him swallow dryly.

"You look really good," I glance over his outfit again. He smirks and turns his head, his eyes staring at me from over the sunglasses sliding down his nose.

"How was the last day of filming?" He changes the subject, not conceding.

"It was good," I smile back. "We got donuts for everybody after we wrapped. That seemed to go over fairly well."

"I'm sure," he nods to himself.

"Is what you're wearing a clue for where we're going?" I raise my eyebrow. His lips press together again and he tries to fight a smile. "That's a yes," I chuckle at his reaction.

"You really don't like surprises, do you," he teases. I shake my head.

"I like them when I plan them."

He turns right at a stoplight. I glance around, wondering why we're still in the LA area.

"So," I hum. "A suit."

"Yep." He answers shortly.

"Do I need a dress?"

He stares straight ahead at the road. His knuckles grow paler as he grips the wheel. I see his face melting a little. "Damnit, Quinn," he mutters between his teeth. "You're going to ruin it."

I soften at his reaction. He's really excited about this.

"Alright," I murmur and turn to look forward again. "I wonder where we're going?" I sing aloud, my eyes darting around dumbly. He smiles again.