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You are like a magnet, I give up
.
The calm and relaxed atmosphere was almost frightening, compared to what the last few days had been like. Andréa sighed in amazement and observed her surroundings.
She had no idea how she had landed in such a paradisiacal place.
The smell of the sea invaded her nostrils as she walked towards the sea, the sun was welcome against her skin, her hair swaying gently and the forest green swimming costume was anything but uncomfortable, with beautiful white patterns that gave it a certain glamour.
Maybe it wasn't Runway's charm, but it was Andréa's charm.
Feeling the sand beneath her feet, she laughed softly at the sensation.
She didn't remember travelling, and even less remembered travelling to the beach.
Which was funny. She could have sworn she was in New York.
Deciding to ignore this feeling, she perked up at the possibility of entering the sea, however, as she approached, a high–pitched buzzing began and she looked around in alarm.
In her excitement for the sea, she hadn't even seen a beautiful silver–haired woman resting on a beach mat to her right, however.
The woman, who also seemed indignant at the buzzing, raised her head and despite the large sunglasses covering her face, Andréa felt visually burnt by the woman.
Still staring at Andréa as if expecting her to do something miraculous about the ringing, the woman huffed impatiently and stood up in a practised elegance that made Andréa question her etiquette habits.
Also wearing a swimming costume, a cobalt blue – so extravagant, but honouring every feature and curve of that woman –, with something... a scarf – was that an Hermès scarf? – in shades of navy blue, beige and gold tied around her waist.
Not mentioning the sensual movement of her hips...
And all this scenery that seemed to embrace the woman.
The sea completely forgotten – even though the water kept lapping at her feet again and again, as if inviting her in –, Andréa still kept her full attention on the woman walking towards her.
The scarf had illustrations of various marine animals, Andy was able to notice even when he was distracted by the woman's sensual walk.
It was cute, though.
The woman stopped in front of Andréa and ran her hands down the woman's sides, who shivered in response.
‘As aggressive as this forest green looks,’ she traced some patterns in the white of the costume, making Andy believe that she might have short-circuited right there. ‘It makes you look like you're part of the view, Andréa, part of a piece of paradise.
Oh. Now her mental faculties seemed to have awakened – some, at least.
She would recognise that voice, those eyes – no matter how much they were covered by her glasses, that shiny hair and the curve of those lips anywhere.
‘Ah, M–Miranda.’ The woman tilted her head slightly.
‘Well?’ she smiled. ‘Don't you find that sound vaguely familiar?’ Miranda referred to the buzzing that still sounded unbearably loud. Ruining the moment.
‘At least it's not an imagination of my head.’ Andréa laughed, but the laughter died in her throat when Miranda moved closer, so close that their noses brushed lightly.
She would also recognise the curve of that nose anywhere.
And she's going to die. Definitely.
Squeezing her waist lightly, Miranda moved closer – Andy felt the hyperventilation attack her with full force. For a moment, she tried to remember how to use her nose and lungs.
They were so unbearably close that, in one movement of her head, Andréa would know the taste of those lips that always seemed so soft, she would know the taste of that tongue that reserved words that were like whips or, rarely, soft as feathers.
And if that happened...
She didn't know if she would survive.
Her nose had forgotten how to breathe the air a long time ago.
She wanted to see Miranda's eyes, to touch her, but she felt totally paralysed, in shock, perhaps?
Miranda smiled, light, pretty, charming. She crossed her arms around Andréa's waist and the woman felt herself melt at that moment, she gasped slightly at the contact.
Andy opened her lips slightly.
Miranda was going to kiss her.
Miranda was finally going to kiss her.
Oh, my God.
Miranda moved impossibly closer, the front part of their bodies touching, their breasts pressed together in a delicious sensation.
Andréa could feel something dense forming in her abdomen, flowing through her body at an absurd speed, burning all the way through.
Miranda brushed her lips across her cheek.
Andréa shuddered deliciously in the older woman's arms.
Closing her eyes tightly, Andréa felt Miranda's breath against her ear.
‘Wake up, Andréa,’ Miranda whispered, ‘I'm waiting for you’. It was like a cold shower.
As if being pulled away by an invisible force, Andréa tried to run back to the beach, where Miranda was watching her with a gentle smile. The noise got louder, more dramatic, spoiling the whole moment.
Andréa spun round sharply on her heels. And that's when she felt her heart miss a beat.
It was too much to assimilate.
The impact she made with the ground seemed to wake her up to life.
- She wasn't on any beach;
- She was in her small flat in New York;
- Her body was still recovering from the fall – she felt a slight pain in her wrist;
- She was beyond turned on by her not safe dream about her ex–boss;
- And the unbearable buzzing was coming from her phone, which was on the bedside table.
Too good to be true.
Gripping the phone tighter than necessary, she answered it without even looking at the caller ID.
She was ready to verbally exterminate the person who had taken her out of that dream. Ah, but she was.
‘Sachs,’ she said, hoarse and harsh.
‘Andréa.’ The voice tickled her ear. She felt her body paralyse, still on the floor of her flat.
Wondering if it was another hallucination, Andy looked at the screen of her phone. It was two o'clock in the morning. It was Saturday. And it was Miranda on the call.
She pinched herself discreetly.
It did hurt.
This was definitely not a dream.
‘Miranda?’ Her voice sounded squeakier now, all that harshness from before evaporating, replaced by a liquid concern that took hold of Andy. ‘Is there something wrong with you? Or the girls? Is everything all right?' she asked at once.
There was a moment of silence. Andy's wrist pulsed with a pain that she knew could lead to a swelling.
A slight rustle came from the other side.
The Book?
Andy didn't move, as if her lack of movement was crucial so that Miranda wouldn't say that the call was a mistake, or that something bad had happened, or maybe the older woman would just hang up on her.
‘Miranda?’ Andréa insisted, her heart racing. Since when had she been sweating?
‘I was about to go to sleep, I... I was just checking The Book, but,’ but? Andy was beginning to think that she really would have a short-circuit before Miranda could even reveal the reason for the mysterious sudden call.
‘Can you come to the Townhouse?’ It came out in a soft request and Andréa didn't even realise that she was up and already moving around the flat. Ignoring the pain in her wrist.
No. Sorry, Miranda. I can’t.
‘Ye-yes, sure,’ Andréa nodded in agreement as if the woman could see her, ‘I'll be there soon.’
‘Well.’ It came out so low that Andréa blushed as she remembered the dream she just had about the woman less than five minutes ago. A dream that could have gone further if the woman herself hadn't unconsciously ended it. ‘Hurry up, please.’ The line went dead.
Please?
This cannot be true.
There was still a certain fury at the abrupt interruption and a slight scepticism about such an unexpected situation, but at least she would see the woman who disturbed her dreams. Flesh and bones.
02h07
She hadn't even realised when she'd called the taxi.
Fixing her hair as best she could, Andy ran to the wardrobe to get something warm to wear, she knew how perverse the weather could be at this hour of day.
No longer owning any of the items from the Closet in her wardrobe, Andréa used her own clothes, Miranda couldn't judge her, she was the one who had called, after all. And despite all the time, Miranda never did.
And Andy also had bought some nice and stylish pieces, but yet, with her mind racing and so little time to think, she grabbed a pair of jeans, a white T–shirt and an old bright yellow jacket, the jacket was warm and had bright blue details.
Andréa somehow felt like some kind of vintage driver when she wore the jacket.
She hadn't had much opportunity to wear it during her time at Runway, and she wondered how Miranda would react. The thought made her smile cheekily.
It would be their first time.
Dressing quickly and grabbing her forest green scarf – how funny – and a vintage solid–coloured bonnet, she left her flat in a hurry.
Something that Andy hadn't counted on, however, was the driver's refusal to take her to the Townhouse. She stared at her phone with judgement as she held back from cursing the driver until his next fifth generation.
Trying again, this time she couldn't hold her tongue as she cursed another driver for refusing.
What happened to these taxi drivers?
She could take the metro, but it would take much longer to get to Miranda's house.
She was already on edge with so much worry.
And she was going to pretend that this worry had no deeper reason.
Walking quickly, Andréa felt hope spring up when she saw a taxi passing down the street, waving quickly as it approached the kerb, she watched in complete shock as the car moved on. Ignoring her.
Ah, this has to be a joke.
She tried again on her phone, and while she waited for an answer she waved at yet another taxi, even running after the car, which also went on its way.
She felt pathetic.
Waiting for a while longer, her ears beginning to burn from the cold and her restlessness, she saw another taxi approaching.
In a lapse of poor judgement, she knew what to do.
When the car was close enough, Andréa jumped into the middle of the street, spreading her arms wide with determination.
This time the driver couldn't do much but stop.
She could have thanked the heavens, but the stress that surrounded her didn't allow it. Going round the car, she simply got in.
‘Lady in heaven! I could have killed you!’ The driver said in exasperation.
‘I'd kill you if I saw you driving straight by, I've been waiting for a taxi for ages, it's an emergency!’ Andréa almost felt guilty for the driver. ‘Can you hurry, please? Upper East Side, 129 East, 73rd Street.’
‘Ah, you're Miss Sachs, aren't you? I'd have to stop anyway, I accepted the ride!’ The driver warned as he pulled away from the kerb, ‘Didn't you get the notification?’ he asked curiously.
Beginning to blush with embarrassment, Andy looked at her phone, noticing that her ride had indeed been accepted – she even realised that she had been holding her beret the whole time, she hadn't even put it on her head.
Apologising profusely to the driver, who just gave her a kind smile, sympathising with the situation, Andréa felt a little calmer. Rubbing her hands together, she tried to imagine a thousand things that could have happened to Miranda, but nothing would clear her mind.
A few months after Paris Fashion Week, Andréa had resigned, but despite her departure, she still kept in touch with a few people, Nigel, Emily – they managed to build up a long–lasting friendship after a while – Serena... they ended up becoming friends and occasionally meeting up for a chance encounter.
What was unexpected, however, was Miranda coming into his life. It all started with an unexpected little meeting, the meeting that led to them exchanging several emails, messages, weekends, coffees, books and heated friendly discussions.
Miranda's ‘please’ in the phone call still impressed Andy a little, even though it wasn't so unusual between them now. But it was something about how it sounded, so raw, sincere and soft.
There was this magnetic thing between them, drawing them both to each other. Or so Andy imagined. The older woman was a maze, full of unknowns.
And everything with Miranda was very much appreciated by Andy.
More appreciated than it should have been.
Perhaps that explains the dream, that woman with the easy smile, the woman who touched Andy so intimately.
Of course, Miranda wasn't all about touches, sometimes there was the occasional touch.
But Andy definitely wouldn't complain.
But she thought about what it would feel like to have Miranda pressed against her.
Her bare skin against hers and then...
Oh, it's happening again.
Feeling so lost in her bubble of her own daydreams, Andréa almost didn't hear the rumbling noise her stomach made.
Ah.
There was a moment of pure silence.
Until the driver laughed, Andréa blushed deeply as she apologised with an embarrassed smile.
The driver kept driving.
02h29
Arriving at the Townhouse, Andréa paid the driver and jumped out of the car in a hurry while she thanked and apologised to the man at the same time.
Rushing to the entrance of Miranda's house, she quickly pressed the doorbell, feeling a little calmer as she had already arrived at her destination.
In a few seconds the door opened, presenting a Miranda who looked a little sleepy, a Miranda who smiled at Andy.
What a sight.
Andy's ears burnt.
‘Andréa, you took your time,’ Miranda commented, giving Andy some space to enter ‘come in’. Andy quickly entered, taking off her shoes, scarf and beret, slightly glad to escape from the cold.
‘Did something happen, Miranda? You called me suddenly.’ Andréa watched Miranda lock the front door and turn towards her. She took Andy's clothes and placed them in the hall closet.
The woman looked calm, the silk robe doing nothing to help Andy's imagination.
Somebody help me.
‘Let's sit down.’ Miranda declared and headed for the den, with Andy on her heels.
Sitting down in the seat in front of Miranda, Andy waited calmly.
There was a tray of tea on the table.
Andy poured herself some to calm a storm brewing inside her.
‘I,’ Miranda sighed and approached Andy, ’wanted to see you.’
Okay.
The tea went down too hot, almost burning. She was strong enough not to choke.
‘O-kay?’
Andy didn't like that, not really, she woke up at two in the morning, she fell out of bed, her wrist hurt, she almost had an erotic dream about the same woman who was standing in front of her now, she went out in the terrible cold of New York, she was ignored by several taxi drivers...
Only Miranda could do such a thing.
To do such a thing with her heart.
‘So there's nothing wrong?’ Miranda nodded, ‘Everything's fine with the girls,’ she nodded again, ‘You called me at dawn because... because you wanted to see me?’
Miranda's face turned on a lovely shade of pink and Andy tried not to focus on that, tried not to focus on the blush that seemed to go deep down in her décolletage.
‘God, Miranda,’ Andy laughed, ‘I don't even know how to react, couldn't you have waited until the morning for this?’ Andy leaned her head back on the cushion and blinked for a moment, the adrenaline seemed to have completely drained from her body and she felt the impact of it now.
‘I've been thinking about our time together and trying to put it out of my mind,’ Miranda admitted, ‘it's been bothering me for days, Nigel said I should just say what I think,’ she gestured vaguely, her lips puckering briefly in disgust.
‘Sometimes I can't even focus on The Book’, OK. That was a real statement.
Closing her eyes to take in everything that had happened, Andy was startled by Miranda's sudden presence.
The blush hit her.
‘Sometimes I realise how you look at me, Andréa,’ Jesus. ‘I thought it was something like admiration,’ Miranda placed a beautiful knee on the armchair. The woman even has a beautiful knee… a knee which was close to her.
Here lies Andréa Elizabeth Sachs.
Cause of death: Miranda Priestly's bare, scented, hot as hell and smooth leg.
‘But I need to know,’ Miranda whispered, leaning in until her breath mixed with Andréa's, who was already gasping, her nose stopping working. ‘It's been so long since we've been in this hot and cold relationship.’
Who said the adrenaline was gone?
Miranda ran her hand down Andréa's jacket and her nose brushed Andréa's lightly.
The touch of her lips was so gentle, it was a light brushing, in contrast to Andréa's moan, which sounded like she had just come out of celibacy. Needy. Raw from desire.
Snaking her arms around the older woman's waist, Andréa pulled her onto her lap as she met the woman's lips once more.
She could come just by kissing this woman. She could come and die soon afterwards.
With one hand gripping the lapel of Andy's jacket and the other already touching under her T–shirt, Miranda deepened the kiss even more, her tongue curling around Andy's with such performance that the younger woman felt mushy as jelly. Her short-circuited brain was trying its hardest to keep up.
And she could have ignored the call, could have kissed an illusion of Miranda Priestly.
She would never forgive herself if she had.
Kissing a real Miranda was much better.
She would be grateful to all the gods.
For that connection – even for that fall – for the driver, the unexpected call, for Miranda's sincerity and bravery.
Her skin was so soft. So silky. The sounds that came out of Miranda's mouth had no time to escape, being swallowed up by Andy soon afterwards.
It was so sinful, but so sacred at the same time.
Moving down Andy's neck, Miranda sprinkled kisses and bites there, her hips pressing lightly against the younger woman's, who moaned and held onto her waist tighter. The older woman's hands pulled out the jacket of Andy's arms in a hurry and then her hands went to her hair, messing it up, tugging on it.
Andy grabbed one of Miranda's nipples over the silk robe, and twisted it slightly, enjoying the shuddering sensation that ran through the older woman's body and the soft moan against her ear. Yes, sacred and profane.
Slipping her finger through and undoing the knot in Miranda’s robe, Andy explored the area with her fingers, going down and down until her fingers brushed against the trimmed hairs on Miranda's mound of Venus.
‘Miranda,’ Andy moaned and kissed the woman's collarbone, the woman was trembling in her lap. There was a wetness between Miranda's thighs.
‘I–I'm going to stain your jeans,’ Andy didn't mind in the slightest.
Andy just rubbed there lightly, soaking her fingers in the woman's fluids, before turning them upwards, taking them to the older woman's mouth, who opened her mouth eagerly, welcoming Andy's fingers. Sucking on her own taste.
The sight of Miranda sucking her fingers, looking into her eyes, made Andy's core throb with arousal, her mouth salivating with the need to have the woman.
Removing her fingers, she grabbed Miranda by the back of the neck and kissed her.
It wasn't soft. It was urgent, erotic, desperate.
Eye to eye, tongue to tongue.
The taste of Miranda shared between the two of them. Miranda rolling her hips slightly.
‘Oh, Andréa... please.’ Miranda moaned.
Damn.
So this was paradise.
Is that what that angelic Miranda meant?
Dipping her fingers back into Miranda's wetness, Andy pressed lightly, feeling the woman increase the speed of her hips even more.
Returning her soaked fingers again, she broke the kiss, this time taking her fingers into her own mouth, tasting the woman.
Miranda moaned, and Andy soon followed.
A sweet sound to the ears.
A bittersweet flavour on the tip of her tongue.
God, she knows she loves this woman.
Lowering her hand again, she thought about what it would be like to explore the woman's sex on her lap, but there would be another opportunity for that.
Putting her hand on Miranda's hip, Andy moaned softly in pain.
‘Something wrong?’ Miranda whispered weakly, now even this woman's breathing is going to exude sensuality? What's with all the sex appeal?
‘Your phone call made me fall out of bed,’ Andy revealed, ‘I fell awkwardly onto my left hand.’
Miranda pulled away enough to look Andy in the eye, she was serious now.
And talk about someone changing their mood in a second.
‘Did you just fall over?’ Miranda grabbed her hand and began to analyse it.
‘I was having a dream actually, your call got in the way, I think in my desperation not to leave my dream, I got carried away.’ Andy shrugged.
‘And what were you having such a... hectic dream about?’ Miranda asked, still looking at Andy's hand, caressing it slowly.
‘You.’ Andy revealed and Miranda looked at her immediately: ‘And me, on a beach. We almost kissed when I fell, then I took your call and tried to get here as quickly as I could, but I was rejected by four taxi drivers.’ She felt a slight lapse of nerves and her right hand squeezed Miranda's waist in reflex. ‘And you scared me!’
Miranda didn't look guilty. She kissed Andy. Good.
‘Then I threw myself in front of the driver who brought me here,’ she laughed, ignoring Miranda's serious and worried look, her grip tightening almost unnoticeably, ‘But he was already going to bring me here anyway, it was the driver who had accepted the ride... the rest is history.’ She kissed Miranda's chin and then her prominent nose.
‘You can be very reckless most of the time,’ Miranda muttered, pushing back Andréa's fringe, ‘these taxi drivers are rude, even if you scared them wearing that terrible jacket for the eyes, stop was still the right thing to do, they've ignored you.’ She caressed Andy's cheek.
‘My jacket is gorgeous, I bet they didn't stop 'cause they were too out of envy.’ Andy murmured, losing herself in the hollow of Miranda's neck and collarbone, which quivered in response. ‘I could even have given it to the driver who brought me here, he was nice.’
‘It suits you,’ Miranda whispered softly, confessing. ‘But I'd still rather see it far aw–’
There was a strange sound, more like thunder.
Both women froze.
A second later Miranda was laughing delightfully, her head thrown back, her pretty white neck on display.
Andy almost felt ashamed.
Standing up from Andy's lap, Miranda looked like a sculpture sculpted by angels: her hair – so soft – messy, her cheeks and neck flushed, one breast sticking out, the curve of her waist, her pubic hair, a wet spot spread across her thighs.
‘Divine ’, Andréa sighed and Miranda, blushing, smiled, tying her robe and holding out her hand to the younger woman.
‘Come on, Andréa, let's get you something to eat and then we'll take care of that wrist.’ Miranda took her hand and led her into the kitchen.
09h04
Waking up with a warm body pressed against hers, Andy took a while to realise where she was, feeling a little sore and an ache in her right thigh, she realised that the warm body belonged to a very, very naked Miranda Priestly.
A very naked Miranda against an equally naked Andy.
Ah, Andy stared at the ceiling and smiled at no one in particular.
She was happy.
‘Andréa,’ that made something happen between her legs, ‘go back to sleep.’ Miranda murmured authoritatively, snuggling even closer, her leg delicately entwining between her own, reaching the point that made Andy wonder if she would be able to sleep with that sinful thigh rubbing against her and creating sexually morning expectations.
What about the wrist? It looked almost brand new.
Wrapping her arms around Miranda's waist and surrendering to the sensation of sleepiness and pleasure, she allowed herself to enjoy a little more of that morning that…
Would be a routine.
Let me love you until the stars disappear from the skies completely.
fin.
Hurry, Taxi Man, to where she is
Hurry, Taxi Man, through the night
Tell me, Taxi Man, what should I do?
Tell me, Taxi Man, how do I escape her maze?