The Gift of Possibilities ~ Fourth
Ah, the Little Freakboat strikes again!
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
.............................
Fourth ~ CeeLyn’s
She was starting to feel ridiculous.
What was I thinking? This is something a love-starved teenager would do!
True, it was a pretty sophomoric thing to do; she thought she had outgrown all those silly childish behaviors.
Apparently not. The grip in which her emotions held her was just as firm this Christmas as it had been for the last three. The first, with that gift- that gift! It wasn’t every day somebody managed to leave Miranda Priestly speechless. Definitely something to be proud of…
Their first kiss… the audacity to think she could schedule the moon.
What is this power she holds over me? Who in their right mind tries to control even the celestial bodies?
She had never felt so drawn to anyone. It was almost as if there was a gravity well in which she had become caught, her own sphere of being continually circling, drawing ever closer to the center with each orbit. She, who was at one time her own person- her own world, had become a moon in orbit. No, that wasn’t right. The woman she loved was no mere planet; she was a sun. She burned hot and white and fierce and was the center of her universe.
Besides, better a planet than a mere moon. A planet was still an independent, viable manner of existence.
She was still her own person, by God. She would never be completely swallowed into another’s personality; subsumed.
But God, what a way to go…
To go. To die. What a horrible transition of thought. Last year had been so close. Yes, it was an accident, but the thought of all those things being possibly left unsaid because of an accident…
I will never put myself in that position again.
She knew realistically that was not possible. Things happen on this planet over which we simply have no control. The best we can truly hope for is to do our job, be as careful as we know how, and never, ever forget to say those words that need to be said.
I love her. I love her and she is going to think this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. Not only is it a terrible cliché and obviously juvenile, but might very well backfire. What if she thinks it’s too childish? She says our age difference is irrelevant, but still…
She heard the front door open and then close, followed by the rustling of a coat and the unmistakable staccato of heels on marble. A few short moments later the bedroom door opened.
The room was silent for a number of heartbeats as the two women shared a small smile.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Indeed. Am I to assume by the bow that you are my present?”
Uh, oh.
“I was hoping you might enjoy something a bit more upbeat than last year’s…”
“Real-l-l-y” the word was drawn out into at three syllables.
Silence again filled the room.
“This was a bad idea…”
She was immediately pushed back down into the softness of the bedding, a firm kiss transforming into a smile.
“Miranda,” Andy whispered.
“Yes, Andrea?”
“I love you.”
“And I love you. Now, perhaps we should unwrap the gift, hm?”
Andy pulled out of their embrace just far enough to loosen the red satin ribbon. Miranda reached to help her, only to have her hand swatted away.
“Jeeez, Miranda, if you don’t mind I like to open my own presents,” laughed Andy as she slid both the bow and silk negligee from Miranda’s shoulders. “This is my most favorite gift ever. Well, so far…”
The Fifth Christmas
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada is neither mine nor CeeLyn's. No infringement intended, no money being made. The building belongs to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. We're just redecorating. When finished, we will tear down the new curtains and fancy artwork, but leave the festive paint…
Rating: T
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Mirandy
.............................
Fourth ~ CeeLyn’s
She was starting to feel ridiculous.
What was I thinking? This is something a love-starved teenager would do!
True, it was a pretty sophomoric thing to do; she thought she had outgrown all those silly childish behaviors.
Apparently not. The grip in which her emotions held her was just as firm this Christmas as it had been for the last three. The first, with that gift- that gift! It wasn’t every day somebody managed to leave Miranda Priestly speechless. Definitely something to be proud of…
Their first kiss… the audacity to think she could schedule the moon.
What is this power she holds over me? Who in their right mind tries to control even the celestial bodies?
She had never felt so drawn to anyone. It was almost as if there was a gravity well in which she had become caught, her own sphere of being continually circling, drawing ever closer to the center with each orbit. She, who was at one time her own person- her own world, had become a moon in orbit. No, that wasn’t right. The woman she loved was no mere planet; she was a sun. She burned hot and white and fierce and was the center of her universe.
Besides, better a planet than a mere moon. A planet was still an independent, viable manner of existence.
She was still her own person, by God. She would never be completely swallowed into another’s personality; subsumed.
But God, what a way to go…
To go. To die. What a horrible transition of thought. Last year had been so close. Yes, it was an accident, but the thought of all those things being possibly left unsaid because of an accident…
I will never put myself in that position again.
She knew realistically that was not possible. Things happen on this planet over which we simply have no control. The best we can truly hope for is to do our job, be as careful as we know how, and never, ever forget to say those words that need to be said.
I love her. I love her and she is going to think this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. Not only is it a terrible cliché and obviously juvenile, but might very well backfire. What if she thinks it’s too childish? She says our age difference is irrelevant, but still…
She heard the front door open and then close, followed by the rustling of a coat and the unmistakable staccato of heels on marble. A few short moments later the bedroom door opened.
The room was silent for a number of heartbeats as the two women shared a small smile.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Indeed. Am I to assume by the bow that you are my present?”
Uh, oh.
“I was hoping you might enjoy something a bit more upbeat than last year’s…”
“Real-l-l-y” the word was drawn out into at three syllables.
Silence again filled the room.
“This was a bad idea…”
She was immediately pushed back down into the softness of the bedding, a firm kiss transforming into a smile.
“Miranda,” Andy whispered.
“Yes, Andrea?”
“I love you.”
“And I love you. Now, perhaps we should unwrap the gift, hm?”
Andy pulled out of their embrace just far enough to loosen the red satin ribbon. Miranda reached to help her, only to have her hand swatted away.
“Jeeez, Miranda, if you don’t mind I like to open my own presents,” laughed Andy as she slid both the bow and silk negligee from Miranda’s shoulders. “This is my most favorite gift ever. Well, so far…”
The Fifth Christmas