Patience
Patience
By arakan
Beta distract_me_now
(--**--)
Chapter 01.Eyes.
Another day and Andy was home from work with barely enough energy to drag herself into her dark apartment. Closing and locking the front-door she kicked off her shoes moved to the table to drop her keys followed by her bag and wallet.
Stripping off her clothes Andy padded into the bathroom. Switching on the light she closed her eyes halfway to adjust to the bright light invading her vision. Not bothering to close the door of the bathroom Andy went to take a shower. The water took forever to get warm but she didn’t let that hinder her on bit; stepping under the cold spray to let the slowly warming water wash away the makeup she wore for the day, and hoping that eventually the hot water would be enough to loosen her taut muscles.
Opening a bottle of beer Andy reached for the table-lamp switching it on, and then placed the beer aside as she open her laptop. While waiting for the computer to boot-up she sat down on the chair in front of her makeshift desk, it wasn’t that big but it's was crammed with piles of papers -- research for her work as a cub-reporter on the New York Mirror. Connecting to the Internet she checked the Inbox for her emails, smiling to find a new missive from Nigel. Even though Andy hadn’t worked at Runway for over seven months the two had managed to stay good-friend. Once in a while they would dine out, which mostly, Nigel paid for, but if they got lunch, Andy was the one who paid the bill…, obviously if they went to places that fit her budget.
Opening the email, Andy’s eyebrows jumped up reading Nigel’s note, which consisted of only one question:
“‘Tell me the first body-part you like from your former-boss?’”
“Really Nigel,” Andy laughed quietly, there was one thing she had learned about Nigel after leaving Runway, he had a bad habit on a slow day at Runway or sometimes when he was brainstorming, he would suddenly send off emails or even a short-text messages asking things that would stun Andy to no end.
So far Nigel had limited his strange queries to her childhood; but in return he wrote long email about his own childhood. What kind of foods Andy like followed by the reason she liked them? It was the same with other kinds of question, such as her favorite drink, places she wanted to go. Andy learned there were a pattern and that Nigel avoided any questions related to her choice of fashion. Not that Andy minded. Even though she had developed a style of her own, the types of clothing or shoes she preferred, were still humble in comparisons to what she knew Nigel would find acceptable
The longer they’d been friends, the more daring Nigel’s bizarre questions became; just two months ago he had suddenly, out of the blue, texted her to ask, “Would you prefer a hot gorgeous blonde over a dark-haired macho chap?”
Andy had received lots of strange stares from her fellow-reporters as she sputtered after reading this message in the bullpen of the Mirror. She had suffered an embarrassing blush for the next hour.So much so, that as she stared down at her mobile-phone unable to formulate a reply, Greg, the Mirror’s Editor-in-Chief, had literally had to shout her name next to her ear to get her attention. For four days, Andy avoided all of Nigel’s emails, texts and calls like the plague, before she finally gathered her courage and texted Nigel her belated reply with a simple and short “Yes.”
There were no texts, calls or emails from Nigel in reply to her admission. Instead, he suddenly appeared outside of the Mirror, picking up Andy in a cab. Nigel took her to a fancy-nightclub where he congratulated Andy over their first round of drinks on’ discovering her true-self,’ the second round of drinks was dedicated to ‘her bravery, for admitting it to him,’ and the following rounds were a mix between Nigel congratulating himself that his ‘Gay-Dar’ was still sharp as ever or amusingly pointing out choice women populating the nightclub in a vain effort to find our Andy’s ‘type’. From there, he really didn’t hold back, he continued sending messages and emails trying to get to know the type of female Andy would actually want. Too bad for him, because poor Andy, having just recently become aware of her preference for women, had no idea of what kind of women she wanted. After all, for the better part of her life, she was convinced she only like men. In such a situation how could she know what kind of woman she wanted?
Andy checked the calendar arching her eyebrow higher; surprised to find that today was the second week of the month. Using her memory over Runway hectic-agenda she scratch her head, confuse as to why Nigel would suddenly be asking one of his bizarre questions. “A lazy day hit him on the head too hard perhaps?” Shaking her head at the strange speculations she could come up with, Andy stared down at the screen her fingertips hovering above the keyboard before beginning to type her reply.
The first body-part Miranda has that caught my attention, the first time I met her, was her eyes. Those blue orbs are as clear as a blue sky and yet can be colder than the wintry wind. A person’s eyes unquestionably is a window to their soul and Miranda’s eyes are always linked to the emotions she’s feeling at the time. The glares she gave were and always will be, scary. Yet I cannot stop wishing for Miranda to look at me with those magnificent orbs without the glares and calculating look. Even just once.
Rereading her reply, satisfied she hadn’t written a stranger reply to Nigel’s already strange question, Andy clicked the ‘Send’ button and spent an hour browsing the web before deciding to get some sleep. Her new job as a reporter was something she always wished for, but the pay left a great deal to be desired? It wasn’t much, but luckily her career had taken a turn for the better lately, which meant she couldn’t afford to slack off.
Switching off the laptop followed by the desk-lamp, Andy padded through the darkness into the bedroom. Climbing in bed she lay down still thinking about Nigel’s peculiar question before rolling over and simply chalking it up to too much stress. Closing her eyes she fell asleep and dreamed of a pair of blue eyes that mostly terrified her, but also made her long to have those eyes focused only on her.
(-*-)
(Runway)
Miranda Priestly marched into her office, as usual, at exactly eight in the morning. Today her mood was registering at an exceptionally low-level on the barometer. Yesterday, Caroline had gotten into a fight with another student at Dalton because he had tried to bully Cassidy, the gentler and the shyer of her two daughters. When the school had tried to contact Miranda, her idiotic second-assistant had informed them that Miranda was in a meeting and could not be disturbed. The woman was now gone from Runway and many suspected, had fled from the entire East Coast not sixty-seconds after she’d casually brought up the fact that there had been a call from Dalton about her daughters. Because of her foolish ineptitude, Dalton had called her ex-husband which had resulted in the sore topic of their custody-battle resurfacing again. To top it all off, her lawyer had called to tell her that Stephen wanted more money, far in excess of the agreement they had signed before their marriage. Needless to say, the Dragon Lady was now breathing fire throughout the halls of Runway. A staffer from the Beauty Department and another from the Printing Department had already gotten fired before the clock could confirmed that she been inside the building for more than 15 minutes.
While the rest of Runway’s staff ran for cover, Nigel entered the Editor’s office poised as ever in his designer-attire, dropping a folder onto Miranda’s desk. As he dropped the folder, he leaned forward slightly and locked his eyes with hers. “Yes?” Miranda drawled; temper ready to flare once more.
“I always thought your eyes one of your best weapons when scaring most hapless souls, Miranda.” Nigel stood back, moved his left palm to prop up his right elbow and put his chin between his right thumb and crocked index-finger. “However, your eyes are one of your most captivating features and I do need to agree with the source... it is definitely one of your most charming as well.” He cracked a tiny smirk at the sudden blank look his long-time friend gave him. “Good morning, Miranda. Have a nice day.” With that he turned on his heels discreetly smirking and leaving a speechless Miranda starring to his retreating back.
Producing his phone Nigel typed a text, ‘meet me at the usual place tonight, drinks on me, I am in the mood for a celebration’ scrolling down his phone book he sent the message to ‘A. S.’ shooting a fleeting look over his right shoulder. Nigel could see that the Editor still looked speechless, ignoring Emily’s questioning-glare he exited the outer-office, mumbling, “one battle down and many to go” complete with a pump of his right fist.
(--**--)
Hi there readers got another idea popping inside my head and plagued my mind for some time now, so yeah, enjoy the story and please review.
Ps: Got a beta! Yay~!
By arakan
Beta distract_me_now
(--**--)
Chapter 01.Eyes.
Another day and Andy was home from work with barely enough energy to drag herself into her dark apartment. Closing and locking the front-door she kicked off her shoes moved to the table to drop her keys followed by her bag and wallet.
Stripping off her clothes Andy padded into the bathroom. Switching on the light she closed her eyes halfway to adjust to the bright light invading her vision. Not bothering to close the door of the bathroom Andy went to take a shower. The water took forever to get warm but she didn’t let that hinder her on bit; stepping under the cold spray to let the slowly warming water wash away the makeup she wore for the day, and hoping that eventually the hot water would be enough to loosen her taut muscles.
Opening a bottle of beer Andy reached for the table-lamp switching it on, and then placed the beer aside as she open her laptop. While waiting for the computer to boot-up she sat down on the chair in front of her makeshift desk, it wasn’t that big but it's was crammed with piles of papers -- research for her work as a cub-reporter on the New York Mirror. Connecting to the Internet she checked the Inbox for her emails, smiling to find a new missive from Nigel. Even though Andy hadn’t worked at Runway for over seven months the two had managed to stay good-friend. Once in a while they would dine out, which mostly, Nigel paid for, but if they got lunch, Andy was the one who paid the bill…, obviously if they went to places that fit her budget.
Opening the email, Andy’s eyebrows jumped up reading Nigel’s note, which consisted of only one question:
“‘Tell me the first body-part you like from your former-boss?’”
“Really Nigel,” Andy laughed quietly, there was one thing she had learned about Nigel after leaving Runway, he had a bad habit on a slow day at Runway or sometimes when he was brainstorming, he would suddenly send off emails or even a short-text messages asking things that would stun Andy to no end.
So far Nigel had limited his strange queries to her childhood; but in return he wrote long email about his own childhood. What kind of foods Andy like followed by the reason she liked them? It was the same with other kinds of question, such as her favorite drink, places she wanted to go. Andy learned there were a pattern and that Nigel avoided any questions related to her choice of fashion. Not that Andy minded. Even though she had developed a style of her own, the types of clothing or shoes she preferred, were still humble in comparisons to what she knew Nigel would find acceptable
The longer they’d been friends, the more daring Nigel’s bizarre questions became; just two months ago he had suddenly, out of the blue, texted her to ask, “Would you prefer a hot gorgeous blonde over a dark-haired macho chap?”
Andy had received lots of strange stares from her fellow-reporters as she sputtered after reading this message in the bullpen of the Mirror. She had suffered an embarrassing blush for the next hour.So much so, that as she stared down at her mobile-phone unable to formulate a reply, Greg, the Mirror’s Editor-in-Chief, had literally had to shout her name next to her ear to get her attention. For four days, Andy avoided all of Nigel’s emails, texts and calls like the plague, before she finally gathered her courage and texted Nigel her belated reply with a simple and short “Yes.”
There were no texts, calls or emails from Nigel in reply to her admission. Instead, he suddenly appeared outside of the Mirror, picking up Andy in a cab. Nigel took her to a fancy-nightclub where he congratulated Andy over their first round of drinks on’ discovering her true-self,’ the second round of drinks was dedicated to ‘her bravery, for admitting it to him,’ and the following rounds were a mix between Nigel congratulating himself that his ‘Gay-Dar’ was still sharp as ever or amusingly pointing out choice women populating the nightclub in a vain effort to find our Andy’s ‘type’. From there, he really didn’t hold back, he continued sending messages and emails trying to get to know the type of female Andy would actually want. Too bad for him, because poor Andy, having just recently become aware of her preference for women, had no idea of what kind of women she wanted. After all, for the better part of her life, she was convinced she only like men. In such a situation how could she know what kind of woman she wanted?
Andy checked the calendar arching her eyebrow higher; surprised to find that today was the second week of the month. Using her memory over Runway hectic-agenda she scratch her head, confuse as to why Nigel would suddenly be asking one of his bizarre questions. “A lazy day hit him on the head too hard perhaps?” Shaking her head at the strange speculations she could come up with, Andy stared down at the screen her fingertips hovering above the keyboard before beginning to type her reply.
The first body-part Miranda has that caught my attention, the first time I met her, was her eyes. Those blue orbs are as clear as a blue sky and yet can be colder than the wintry wind. A person’s eyes unquestionably is a window to their soul and Miranda’s eyes are always linked to the emotions she’s feeling at the time. The glares she gave were and always will be, scary. Yet I cannot stop wishing for Miranda to look at me with those magnificent orbs without the glares and calculating look. Even just once.
Rereading her reply, satisfied she hadn’t written a stranger reply to Nigel’s already strange question, Andy clicked the ‘Send’ button and spent an hour browsing the web before deciding to get some sleep. Her new job as a reporter was something she always wished for, but the pay left a great deal to be desired? It wasn’t much, but luckily her career had taken a turn for the better lately, which meant she couldn’t afford to slack off.
Switching off the laptop followed by the desk-lamp, Andy padded through the darkness into the bedroom. Climbing in bed she lay down still thinking about Nigel’s peculiar question before rolling over and simply chalking it up to too much stress. Closing her eyes she fell asleep and dreamed of a pair of blue eyes that mostly terrified her, but also made her long to have those eyes focused only on her.
(-*-)
(Runway)
Miranda Priestly marched into her office, as usual, at exactly eight in the morning. Today her mood was registering at an exceptionally low-level on the barometer. Yesterday, Caroline had gotten into a fight with another student at Dalton because he had tried to bully Cassidy, the gentler and the shyer of her two daughters. When the school had tried to contact Miranda, her idiotic second-assistant had informed them that Miranda was in a meeting and could not be disturbed. The woman was now gone from Runway and many suspected, had fled from the entire East Coast not sixty-seconds after she’d casually brought up the fact that there had been a call from Dalton about her daughters. Because of her foolish ineptitude, Dalton had called her ex-husband which had resulted in the sore topic of their custody-battle resurfacing again. To top it all off, her lawyer had called to tell her that Stephen wanted more money, far in excess of the agreement they had signed before their marriage. Needless to say, the Dragon Lady was now breathing fire throughout the halls of Runway. A staffer from the Beauty Department and another from the Printing Department had already gotten fired before the clock could confirmed that she been inside the building for more than 15 minutes.
While the rest of Runway’s staff ran for cover, Nigel entered the Editor’s office poised as ever in his designer-attire, dropping a folder onto Miranda’s desk. As he dropped the folder, he leaned forward slightly and locked his eyes with hers. “Yes?” Miranda drawled; temper ready to flare once more.
“I always thought your eyes one of your best weapons when scaring most hapless souls, Miranda.” Nigel stood back, moved his left palm to prop up his right elbow and put his chin between his right thumb and crocked index-finger. “However, your eyes are one of your most captivating features and I do need to agree with the source... it is definitely one of your most charming as well.” He cracked a tiny smirk at the sudden blank look his long-time friend gave him. “Good morning, Miranda. Have a nice day.” With that he turned on his heels discreetly smirking and leaving a speechless Miranda starring to his retreating back.
Producing his phone Nigel typed a text, ‘meet me at the usual place tonight, drinks on me, I am in the mood for a celebration’ scrolling down his phone book he sent the message to ‘A. S.’ shooting a fleeting look over his right shoulder. Nigel could see that the Editor still looked speechless, ignoring Emily’s questioning-glare he exited the outer-office, mumbling, “one battle down and many to go” complete with a pump of his right fist.
(--**--)
Hi there readers got another idea popping inside my head and plagued my mind for some time now, so yeah, enjoy the story and please review.
Ps: Got a beta! Yay~!