The following day Andrea woke up to go to work, still exhausted from the hours she had been forced to stay at Runway, and when glanced at the phone screen to see what time it was, she almost cursed when her eye fell on the date.
She didn't know how she had neglected it and she absolutely didn't know how to behave: she knew very well what had happened that day, five years before, to Miranda, even if she wasn't present in her life.
She knew how much that day was sadder than the others for Miranda, how much more she didn't want to interact with others and to be the first queen and corporal major of her Runway army.
She wasn't sure how to behave: she had never forgotten that confession that Miranda had made to her in the year in which she had been her assistant and she had never forgotten to spare a thought for the older woman, during that anniversary, in the three years in which they had been apart, but she didn't believe to have the right to intervene to try to improve the day of the woman with white hair.
Although she had decided that she would pretend she hadn't remembered and would silently go about her working day as if nothing had happened, and then she would have returned home that evening and took the well-deserved rest she craved, but when she arrived at Runway and immediately realized the impossible mood of Miranda, the situation changed dramatically.
She also knew that approaching the older editor at that moment could cost her own life, but a small part of her told her that trying to do something for Miranda was a good way to disappear from the face of the earth.
"Good morning." - she said entering Miranda's study with a smile and closing, as usual, the doors behind her
"What do you want Andrea?" - Miranda asked and her tone of voice was so icy that the young woman almost changed her mind
"Invite me to dinner, Miranda." - she said instead, deciding that she had stopped being afraid of the Devil in Prada years ago
"What?" - Miranda asked, a little nervous and a little surprised
"Do you have anything better to do tonight? Getting drunk and having a headache all weekend doesn't seem like a better option." - Andrea replied, maintaining a serious and calm tone even though she was dying inside
"Would you like to come to dinner with me?" - asked Miranda, deciding to indulge in that game, but maintaining a bored expression and tone of voice
"Women don't like questions." - Andrea replied firmly
"Come to dinner with me." - Miranda said with a shy smile
"Too imposing." - replied Andrea
"Come to dinner with me?" - Miranda repeated
Andrea was definitely on the verge of laughing and she knew that, even though Miranda would never admit it, she was having a great time too.
"Another question." - she replied then, without giving in to that laugh that she wanted so much to do
"I'm going to dinner tonight, join me if you want." - Miranda said after taking her glasses off her nose
"Better. I'll pick you up at seven. Make sure you go home and take care of yourself first." - Andrea replied, finally laughing heartily
She didn't say another word after that and walked out of Miranda's study, leaving the white-haired woman to smile as she pushed her glasses back up her nose and resumed working.
That dinner could only arrive as slowly as possible for both women, but when Andrea finally welcomed Miranda into her car at seven o'clock she was enchanted by the summery, black Brunello Cucinelli outfit that the older woman was wearing, with an Yves Saint Laurent jacket and a pair of red shoes from The Attico paired perfectly with a Dior shoulder bag; Miranda had gone far out of her comfort zone with that bag and Andrea smiled as she noticed how everything seemed to fit the white-haired woman perfectly.
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All too well || mirandy
Fanfiction«Just between us, I remember it all too well.» _ Three years have passed since Andrea left Miranda alone in Paris, betraying their love and destroying their relationship. Three years have passed in which Andrea did everything to not see or hear fro...
