oh, anna [-hs]

used to be lonely

His face lights up. He grins ear to ear. "I was hoping you'd say that. Change and meet me downstairs." He turns on his heel and practically skips out of the room. I laugh.

"Into what?" I shout after him. He's just passed the threshold of the doorway.

"Something you want to be seen in!" He sings and softly shuts the door.

I chuckle under my breath and walk to my duffel bag, unzipping it to reveal the clothes packed within. Cherry is swaddled lovingly in the center of the fabric. I set her aside and dig through the pieces, trying to mentally put together an outfit. An outfit to be seen in with Harry Styles. If there's one thing I know about this man, he's a fashion icon. The way he emphasized being seen makes me think there might be press. No pressure, Quinn.

I pull out a dress I recently bought, well, thrifted. It drapes delicately down from my hands, a canvas-white fabric that feels soft like silk between my fingers. I grin and toss it onto his bed, before pulling out an oversized, sky blue jacket I've had since high school. I stare at the clothes on the bed for a moment, before nodding to myself and reaching to put them on.

Tying the sleeves of the dress up around my shoulders, I throw the jacket over my shoulders and turn to look at myself in the mirror of a vanity sitting in the corner.

I wish I had thought through what shoes I was bringing, but all I had were my crappy navy blue converse I wore on the airplane. I didn't want to over pack for the trip. Now I kind of wish I had some strappy gold heels to complete this outfit.

But maybe it's for the best. I don't know how much we'll be walking, and I don't want my feet to fall off.

I do a little twirl in the mirror. I feel very "fall in LA" and it makes me happy. I feel sexy. My silhouette makes me grin, a little mole on my skin peeking through the cutout by my stomach.

I snap open my small, travel, jewelry box and pull out two earrings. They're little bears, translucent like tiny golden honey jars. I slide them into my ears and wag them back and forth.

I throw my shoes back on, Cherry and my bag over my shoulder, and head for the door, popping my heel for my reflection in the mirror and blowing her a quick kiss.

I skip down the stairs to find Harry in his living room, sprawled across the couch. His chin is dug into his chest and his eyebrows are creased as he stares at his phone. I clear my throat to alert him of my presence and his eyes hesitate on the screen, before slowly looking up. They immediately soften when they fall on me, his face melting, except for his jaw which sharpens. He sits up a little.

"Well, shit," he blurts out.

"That good, huh?" I do a little spin for him as well. He coughs and sits all the way up, tossing his phone recklessly aside.

"Now I feel underdressed," he explains, his eyes never leaving my figure. I take in what he's wearing; blue bell bottom jeans, a fading, colorful Rolling Stones tee under a loose floral button up.