Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
•❄️• Farrah was cleaning up....again! It was a bitter cold Christmas Eve, evening and Farah Hassan was gifted with the hated task of cleaning away the remains of the W magazine annual office Christmas party by her bitch of a boss Levi Sommers. Although the verb Gifted was putting it delicately, Farrah thought intensely as the outcome was in no-way due to a draw of a short straw.
It was due to extreme envy, Farrah suspected tossing the dark, emerald green Holly wreath into the transparent storage box. And the only reason she complied knowing she had a red-eye from JFK was due to the uttermost fact she was put on the spot in-front of the all-mighty editor in chief Stefano Tonchi who she definitely didn't want to look like a complete arsehole in front off.
So as Farrah put the last of the mistletoe in an acrylic box leaving them for the caretakers to take down to the storage basement until next year, Farrah made her way down the dimly lit hallway only illuminated by a flush LED ceiling light and the bright city lights of New York visible by the immense window.
Farrah entered her quadrangle cubicle to retrieve her wool cashmere coat and leather carry-on bag before making her way towards the glass elevator at the end on the long hallway.
Farrah clicked on the glass button awakening the sleeping elevator; coolness flooding her fingertips and waited.
Though she was on the 34th of 104 floor the sounds of the faint horns of the yellow dipped cabs and whining melodies of the police cars were still Audible and vibrated throughout the glass building.
Just as Farrah was about to reach for her phone the elevator, signalling its arrival, halted to an abrupt stop. And as Farrah looked through the glass door she noticed it was not empty like she suspected, in fact it was abundantly occupied though she could not see by what due to the faint tint of the glass.
But as the doors began to repel apart Farrah noticed, that it was not a particular what but a who. And a the when white light glimmered upon the stranger making him resemble something ethereal from beyond, Farrah noticed it was not just any who but a very beautiful one at that.
When the stranger walked out the elevator, the harsh light dimmed, making his warm zaffre eyes and Mocha brown curls immensely visible. Clad in a Ralph Lauren suit and hand in hand with a bouquet of tasteful scarlet roses and a bottle of full bodied Rosé the guy was head to toe gorgeous.
When the dashing stranger in stride made his way out the elevator Inching towards her, Farrah couldn't help but ogle at him, probably due to the fact she was submerged in awe from awestruck, but she didn't seem to care.
"Excuse me, miss?" Caught in to deep by his beauty, Farrah did not perceive the gentlemen was addressing as she was in her transfixed state. Normally she wasn't like this; composed and serene she was but never starstruck.
