My thoughts on "Ever after" by writtensword
Aww... I was in bad mood so I started to read this, hoping your story will make it all better as it always is, and you disappointed me - it wasn't even half of the chapter and you killed Andy's mother. How could you? XD But after I overcame the shock, I lost myself between the lines of your writing and here I am praising you to no end, because you so deserve it! <3
What a start of your writing career ! I mean what a beginning! I loved how the story shifted from happy and sunny to gloomy and bad - that's the technique that you used, as it turned out, from the very beginning and you've very well developed in your later works, and it's very effective. I mean, you take the reader on emotional journey, you make them feel and that's what excellent writing is about. But that's not the only thing that for me is grain which later on became a tool that would make the reading experience even more intense.
Once again, whenever you make the story AU you so well transfer the nature of relationship from the movie, sometimes emphasizing what lies underneath, for example here, you made a relationship between Emily and Miranda more informal, and you can actually see that in the movie. I mean, the trust Miranda has for Emily, warm feelings and appreciation of all that Emily does it's all here. You, when you write, you always slalom between the canon relationships so efficiently, grabbing some details along the way, picking them up, exposing them, creating your own version of world based on your knowledge of characters and their vices or weak spots. .This came to my mind when I read how you got our Mirandy meet for the first time. I mean, is there a better way to get to Miranda's heart than to achieve what others consider impossible? ^ ^ Furthermore, Nigel so fits here with all his obsession about clothes. Though set somewhere in the Middle Ages, it's still all about fashion. Doug squealing over clothes... and he dresses Andy in quite unconventional way? Well, Haven't I seen it somewhere before? XD XD XD Everything rings true. Genius, you are!
Yu made me dying in appreciation for Mirandy scenes. I am not sure that everything happens so slow... XD No, no, I am kidding. I love the way you construct the story and everything is so detailed, it's nothing else that the proof that your capabilities of imagining the reality of the story are far beyond average!
I loved the small personal insertion, for example in this bit :
"Andy could not find the right words to describe Miranda. Every time she began to write down her thoughts on the white-haired woman, she was at a loss.
The more she thought about that woman the more she knew she wanted to know more about her. "Inspiring indeed!" Andy grinned goofily at the dancing snow flakes outside. (...)"
It is like you pouring all your freshly developed, given it's your first story in the fandom, fascination for Miranda through Andy. I can totally picture yourself, sitting in front of blind Word-page, rephrasing, rewriting, correcting, struggling to find right words to describe all that Miranda is. It's beautiful in that way. It's the part of yourself you leave in your work.

Did I tell you that ever time I read your story, I see everything and smell everything and feel everything... I don't know exactly what does that trick, whether it's the ambiance your words create, whether this lies in the decision of what to describe, and what not. I don't know, it's so inspiring, it transfers me to the images from my life, to my memories. It helps me to connect with the deeper layers of my personality (apparently, I am like onion, too :) , with that what is beneath my shell I normally show to the world.

Now, let me elaborate about Miranda! There was so much compassion in her, it made me all squishy and happy and giddy inside! I loved how protective she was, I loved how possessive she could become with the snap of the fingers. I loved that she rescued Andrea from the claws of Prince Christian! XD It was like reversing the scenes for the movie! It was like when Andy distract Irv's attention from the incident with good-for-nothing husband, and it was Miranda who looked at Andy like she would like to cancel her evening, and now Andy is the beaten one, the lost one, scared one and unloved and Miranda is there, to straighten Andy's path to became happy. :D

I especially liked this bit :

The enormous tension left Andy so suddenly that she felt as if she had started to float. Through the blur of fresh, hot tears she saw the beautiful face of Miranda leaning down toward her, concern shining through the ice blue eyes. A thumb drew delicate circles over her bruised, wet cheek and Andy was at a complete loss for words. The older woman gave her a slight smile and said, "It's going to be alright. You're safe now.

I had tears in my eyes, because Miranda Priestly and her compassion always deeply touches me. This feeling, is one of the many, that attributes the characteristic of being human, and for me compassion piles off all the masks we may have, because if its true, it leaves nothing else that our heart exposed and as it comes to Miranda, with all her thick mask and carefully guarded humanity, it is much more spectacular.

There were so many parts that made me feel giggle! Let me quote some of them :

"You must definitely introduce me to this man with vision!" Nigel crossed his arms and slowly shook his head, as if in disbelief at what he saw in front of him.

She turned to face the younger woman and after a pause asked, "would you like to become my assistant?

XD XD XD "Would you like to become my assistant? " XD Well, that was polite of her behalf .D: XD

Something about the combination of white and that particular shade of blue.
Awww I see what you did here! XD

Hello, drama girl! Leave it to you to require a huge rescue operation! Emily! :D

and his creepy eyes. More like eyebrows!!! XD

Miranda had seemed thrilled at the idea of punishing whoever had made the mistake of laying hands on her coffee shipments.

LOL LOL LOL, I have totally no idea why, but I suddenly had this vision of Miranda sitting on top of pile of bags of coffee grains screaming: "Minnnnne! Minnnne!" XD

She knows who you are. She actually made me attend the ball.

I knew it! I knew it!!!

It added to the sweet and spicy flavor of the older woman's mouth and Andy knew that coffee would forever be tied to the feeling of Miranda's tongue sensually caressing her own.

It made me think of Andy's line "I've always knew your kisses would taste like coffee." Where was it ? In "It's all relative", wasn't it..?

And when I reached the final chapter, I really couldn't picture the king other than actual Meryl's brother :D Me, and my brain!

Summing up, I love that magic gleam your stories have, even if the story is not set in stricte magical world, like Vocalise, for example. Every time I read your stories, there's that spirit of something beautiful happening, there's that promise of future feelings, love, affection, happiness. You re-create the world for those two, you make them happy, and the process of it affects not only their lives, but also those who read about it, who thanks to that explore, expand and discover their own worlds existing within the boundaries of their hearts.

Thank you for everything <3 <3 <3 <3

Watching her sleep
Here's my response to writtensword prompt she gave during the latest ficaton. I dedicate this one to her :D

Title : "Watching her sleep"
Genre : Hurt/Comfort
Rating : PG-13
Pairing : Andy/Miranda

Disclaimer : All character belong to 20th Century Fox and Lauren Weisberger.

They have found the way to make their relationship last. Maybe it was hidden in that never-ending passion between them, maybe it was in the fragility with which Miranda used to take Andy's hand into hers; the manner that touched Andy so deep that the mere thought of going through life without it seemed unacceptable to both of them. Nevertheless, it was there, uncovered, strengthening the love between them, entwining and linking their lives forever.

It was late in the evening and Andy was still in their study applying the last touches to her article. Miranda, being exhausted after her day went to sleep at outrageously early hour, not even going through the book. It was a habit that has developed thanks to Andy, as she had somehow managed to persuade Miranda that her health and well being were more important than lowering the level of incompetence of Runway staff and Miranda has eventually relented.

At times like this, when Miranda was defeated and exhausted, Andy would lay with her, in their bed, closing her in a tight embrace, waiting for her wife to fall asleep on Andy's chest. She loved every detail about those moments - the pressure of Miranda's body, the soft breaths against her skin, the way the white locks muzzled her chin. Andy was sure that Miranda loved it as much as she did. Andy could tell by the very possessive way in which Miranda clung onto her, locking her arms around her, with one leg over Andy's thigh. Eventually, when her breath evened, Miranda would roll to her side, making herself more comfortable, and Andy would stay with her, reading, waiting for sleepiness to take over her, or if there was a deadline on the horizon as there was today, she would go to their study to finish one of her articles.

She was sitting in the dark room, the only source of light was her laptop. Her face was gleaming in the light of it; sharp and the white light illuminating empty coffee mugs next to her on the desk. coffee Her eyelids started to become heavy, and rhythmic, forced tapping of her fingers against the keyboard was putting her to sleep.

"ANDREEEEAHH" she suddenly heard a heart wrenching cry. She jolted from her seat and hurried down the hallway to their bedroom. Miranda was lying on the bed, sobbing into the pillow.

"Shhh,,, What happened?" said Andrea with soothing tone as she sat on the verge of the bed, running small circles on Miranda's shoulder, but there was no reaction "Shh... Darling, I am here." It was scary, but her wife seemed to still be sleeping. She still sobbed into the pillow, apparently unaware of the presence of her wife, as she still mouthed out her name, her voice full of longing and sadness and fear, and her eyes were tightly closed.

"Miranda? Miranda, wake up. It was just a dream." Andy said reassuringly putting her hand on Miranda's hand, squeezing it gently. Miranda blinked a few times; her eyes already swollen and puffy.


And then she realized about what she was dreaming and that the echo of her cries was still ringing in her ears and lingering on her lips.

"Shh, darling, I am here." Andy repeated, hoping it may calm her wife down just a little.

And then there it was; the embarrassment every time Miranda had this dream. Usually, Miranda was not that sentimental, and she didn't ponder much about the dreams as such, but this one, this particular one which voiced all her fears about her future with Andy, was particularly unnerving. It was that frightening, dark dream, in which some undefined power was pinning her down to the wall, and Andy was going away, not turning back, deaf to Miranda's desperate cries for her to come back and then as Andy's outline disappeared in some kind of thick fog, Miranda started to fall down somewhere deep into the darkness, forgotten and unwanted, with the feeling of never being truly loved, alone with the painful realization that she's been always right; everyone always left.

Right now, as many times before, she needed Andy's body, just to collect the memories of Andy's touch for the future. She squeezed Andy's hand.
"I just had this dream...." she paused not sure if this time, she could continue and be so blunt about her doubts. She never told Andy about this dream , and Andy didn't ask about it also, but she must have suspected what it was, as the eyes, which were looking down at her, expressed nothing but terror and concern.

"Shh it was just a dream... Just a stupid dream". She said placing a small, sweet kiss on Miranda's cheek.

Wanting to comfort Miranda in any way possible, Andy sneaked next to her, her face in front of Miranda's, her eyes on the same level. There was some kind of eerie mixture of sadness and beauty of this moment around them. Like they were in an unwanted bubble of woe, circling them around, locking them up. They starred at each others eyes and mutually decided to undergo this feeling. Their eyes were gleaming in the soft light coming from the lamp Andy turned on when she had entered.

They said nothing to each other for long minutes. Somehow all these moments they spent together, they were all parading in front of them right now.. Miranda, trying to shake off all the memories of being insecure, tried to focus on the warmth of Andy's body.. And only Miranda could tell how much of a physical beauty there was in Andrea. She looked at her wife in front of her. Andy had a golden halo around her hair, in the dim light, her eyes gleaming .

"Your eyes... It's the last thing I always want to see before falling asleep."

There was the lilt of sadness in Miranda’s voice. She caressed Andy's cheek with her thumb. Her lovely, sweet cheekbones. She closed her eyes slowly; her breath even already. She was so tired. Oh, so so tired. Andy looked at the woman in front of her.

"Just go to sleep. I won't leave you. Never."

Hearing those words, Miranda smiled softly, and though she was not sure about that she said "I know".

Andy was fully aware that she had yet to manage to fully convince Miranda she would not go away anywhere, not in this life. Sometimes, Miranda still seemed to emotionally tiptoe around Andy, like there was some kind of uncertainty between them, like they were standing together on an unsteady bridge. Andy pinned it on the possibility that previous relationships had played much of a havoc in Miranda's emotional condition. She was just not used to the fact that, for better or for worse, as they had promised, someone would always be there for her.

Now, as always, Miranda just rolled to her side, turning her back to Andy. Supporting herself on her elbows, Andy looked down at the image in front of her. She was glad that Miranda's features seemed a little bit more relaxed. Sleepiness started to take over and just as she was drifting away she heard a soft whispering coming from the side.

"Andy... ?"

"Yes, Miranda....?" She mumbled, already half asleep, forcing her eyes to open, but Miranda simply rolled to Andy's side, searching for her in her sleep, and just as Miranda's hand reached the soft curve of Andy's waist, she smiled.

"Yes, Darling, I will always be here," Andy whispered softly and then she pulled Miranda closer. There was no doubt that Andrea's life couldn’t be any fuller than at that very moment. There was no doubt at all.

The End.

"Fur? No Thanks, I'd Rather Go Naked!" by kendokuschi
Firstly, I'm kind angry with myself! How come I didn't figure out the plot earlier I don't know! Your drawing of Andrea holding white little mink revealed everything! But instead of getting a grasp of your brilliant ideas, I thought "hmmmmm, ok, maybe they adopt a pet together with Miranda" XD
Once again, I was making some notes as I was reading, knowing that in the end I'd be so overwhelmed and happy that my train of thoughts would be enormously disturbed by the brilliance I was about to read. So here it is, the chaos of my thoughts, which now I'm trying to organize now into something bearable to read.

You know, when I read a story that really gets to my heart I picture myself instead of the main character and for most of the time, it was me who was holding mink-Miranda and yes well, through later parts, too. *blushing furiously* I thought it was gonna kill me.
When I'm engulfed with that I read, my mind chooses to set the events in some other places than it is described. The same with people. I mean, though people are described by the writer, the characters I memorize from other movies and books tend to stick their noses into the plot which they are not related to, so though you so brilliantly described shaman I couldn't imagine him differently than Snape in this particular outfit. :

I don't know why, don't ask. But I really couldn't shake off the idea of Snape dipping his slick fingers into what was about to happen. :D XD

"Stop gaping, Andrea. It makes you look like a fish," the weasel spoke and Andy felt herself balance dangerously close to the edge of fainting.

"M-Miranda... is that you?"

The ridiculous image of this white ball of fur sniffing in a very Priestly fashion tethered Andy firmly back to the sturdy ground of consciousness."

When Andy saw Miranda as a mink I was nearly dead! It was total out of body experience. It was. My eyes were so wide in disbelief! My mind was crazy with where all this would go. I sensed a great amount of fluff spiced up with yet not described, unspoken feelings. And once again, you didn't disappoint me.

You managed to pull out Miranda as a mink so flawlessly. I mean, I really could see this white animal having all the features of La Priestly, though
"Animal-Miranda was certainly less stingy with compliments than human Miranda." - and wouldn't that little fact provide some cute scenes in the future? I loved the idea, couse once again and as absurd as it may seem, I think that through turning her into animal, you showed very human part of Miranda, the one to which I pay my utmost attention, the one that really got me glued to the screen, the one that, as it happened to Andy, made me fall in love with Miranda.

"Grooming, of course. What does it look like, Andrea?" I died, I died...!

I love the chose of words you made to describe mink-Miranda, like this little sentence : the mink sniffed and planted its little butt on the cushion." Despite having great LOLS, I had really no problem with imagining mink-Miranda, "who stretched her back like a cat would - bum in the air and front claws digging into the fabric of the couch. " *-*
And all these little characteristics, like being remarkably picky:
"Two hours, seven species of fish, and a big giant mess on the table later and Miranda had finally decided that she preferred the salmon", well how typical of her. :D

As for the dynamics of their relationship: I really loved how the developing situation forced them to finally show how they were possessive and protective about each other.
This thing of protectiveness from Andy really does a trick and really got me to be involved in a story and provided so many cutie-cutie moments, like in Andy's apartment when they woke up with their noses touching, or Miranda curling up on Andy's chest. <3

And that particular scene:

"Now I feel the need to brush my teeth," Miranda dead-panned and if it weren't for the shock and post-sleep disorientation, the brunette would have burst out laughing. " Made me think of Mushu from Mulan, brushing his teeth and saying "Don't look at me I ain't bite no more butts." XD

Thanks God Nate left! once they are alone, we have a promising romantic setting! I loved how Miranda was enabled to see the damage working for her does in private lives of her workers. Usually, It's the other way around, I mean it's Andy who sees how much the job of Miranda is affecting her private life, here is the next thing you managed to flip. I love the fact you exposed the vulnerability that Miranda posses as a woman in human form through making her small animal, to which the world is even bigger. That way she had her perspective changed and, in a way, she had to realize that she had to rely on somebody to survive and well, that somebody was Andy. Being physically unable to get her things done at work for example, she realized that she relied on Andy more than on anybody else, she made a small steps to the conclusion that Andy was THE CHOSEN ONE, if we circle around HP allegories. XD

I really love your sense of humor. It seems you posses some kind of interior smirk that provides all these small jokes that made me smile along the way.
like this little one :

"Go fetch my Starbucks, and by the way, I ravished you in my dreams last night, would you like to have a real go at it on my desk after lunch?". Well, that sounds like a good fic prompt. ^^

"A portion of the spell reflected off of you before it hit its target, creating a link between you both." Will they have to find horcruxes now? XD

Andrea, I don't think we're at the point in our relationship yet where I can hang up on your mother." LOL, indeed they weren't XD
" where they eat poly-blend sweaters? Such a place exists? The older woman gave her a stern look, refusing to dignify the younger woman's lame joke with a response." Hey! It wasn't a lame joke! Or I have particular sense of humor. XD

I love that you come up with this brilliant solutions as to how make these two even more bonded. Their photosession was brilliant, the calls that Andy made with the twins on Miranda's behalf, the act of buying food for Miranda. And when Miranda confessed why she loved being touched by Andy I had this happy tears in my eyes. Thank you so much.

Wow," Andy said breathlessly. "I didn't know mink could cry..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea," Miranda wept softly against the brunette's throat and continued in a barely audible whisper, "I'm not crying ." And I was crying to, my heart clenched and omg I had this catharsis feeling, you know it, right? Of course you know it. Thank you very much.

When I got to the part when it was almost over and mink-Miranda demanded that Andy would strip down and get into bed my brain almost exploded : OMFG THEY GONNA WAKE UP NAKED IN THE MORNING! EPIC!

I love how you paraphrased this famous line and turned it into something beautiful "
I see a great deal of myself in you. You can see beyond what people want... and you give them what they need." Really, I want to hug you when I read that.

And now about smut part. Well that was HOT beyond measure! I caught myself reading some sentences twice as I was not able to focus on words properly. -_-'

Summing up:
What the hell possessed you? THAT WAS OUT OF THIS WORLD AND BRILLIANT! I sustain my previous statements. Your stories make me feel alive. I will be forever grateful to you for them. At the end, I simply wanted to skip down the street with a goofy smile on my face. Thank you.


"Blue-green eyes sparkled and Miranda whispered! " Standing ovation for that! I know that it became kinda fanon to describe Miranda's eyes as blue, but hell she has them blue green and I'm so glad you didn't use that popular assumption.
And one more thing: what a brilliant title! Really, I love the meaning hidden behind that ;)

Comments on Vocalise by kendokuschi
should you know that I'm gonna write this, supposedly long, review as I read the story once again. This way, you'll get most of the thoughts and feelings I produce about what I read. I failed to write my comments after I've read everything, you know in one shot, but so many things and thoughts were just lost in the chaos of my feelings. So here I am, once again reading your story. And I'm anxious, and I have this buzz feeling in my heart and though I know what's gonna happen it's not any less exciting. Actually, it's even more exciting. I'm gonna be in love. I'm gonna stand there in the front of these people conducting them, and I'm gonna sing with them. I am gonna be excited and I'm gonna be crying. Yes, your writing is that powerful and overwhelming. And yes, I'm that schizophrenic. :P
when I was reading Vocalise for the first time I was not so hooked by the story for the first half of the first chapter and then you got me. You got me the minute Miranda walked into the auditorium and lied her eyes on Andy. That's when it all began - all these vivid imaginations flicking through my head and heart at the speed of light as my eyes were struggling to read the text, due to engulfing need to know what's gonna happen next. I wholeheartedly believe it is so because of your wonderful ability to choose the right things to be described. Just enough to trigger off all the feelings of the characters, leaving the space for the reader to feel what they read. It's not overwritten nor is it underwritten. That's why it's so engulfing. And you insert all these little moments from the movie like this tiny one gesture of Miranda tugging at her belt.

"Immediately Emily's hand shot up and Andy rolled her eyes. She could practically hear the Brit's internal chanting of 'Pick me! Pick meeee" LOL, I can picture Emily doing it and it reminds me of Hermione! XD And the greatest: "The brunette found herself speechless as she studied the tight, black skirt the older woman was wearing. It reached just above her knees and was complimented by a tight, off-white shirt which was bound at the waist with a silk band, and sporting a V-neck that exposed a generous amount of skin without being vulgar." I read that and I peed a little and then I was grinning like crazy. Maybe because in a movie, when Miranda wears all these wonderful things I sense something is missing, I mean... a little hanky-panky scene exactly ;) And you made them touch themselves when Miranda was wearing THESE clothes!!! No wonder it sent me over the edge. Also, it seems to me that the choice of this particular song Andy sings then is not random. Does it convey some meaning as to what happened to Cassidy? Is it Miranda's song of hope? A little all of that. At least for me.

I've reached the end of the second chapter. I'm listening to "Why does she have to die?" form "Finding Neverland" soundtrack, and I'm sobbing so much, I almost can't see what I'm typing but it gives me that wonderful catharsis feeling, so that's ok. It's such a beautiful moment, terrible but still. This moment on cemetery conveys the meaning of the scene in Paris. From what I've read so far, I can picture Miranda as cold-hearted bitch, but I can't see all that inner life of a character, I don't see the reason why she's so cold and distanced. In this moment on cemetery, as it is done by Meryl in the movie, the reasons, the inner life of the character unfolds and it's equally eye-opening experience. I need fluff right now. And here it comes. I love all these tiny moments, it seems we like the same movies - Home Alone, Shrek, Sister Act? and I'm glad you were inspired by them :D

I'm very fond of what's happening with Caroline. It provides all these moving, heart wrenching moments. As you said it's a road from misery to full recovery so it's serves accurate purpose to the story.

Now about Andy's parents -when I was reading for the first time I loved the fact that her parents are so approvable, so that it saves all unnecessary drama in a story that is sad itself, even though later on they were not that ecstatic about Andy's choice.
I love how you, whenever is possible underline the significance of music, and how Miranda seems to recover through music and later on, through Andrea. I love the meaning you put into music. I, myself love choral music, and hell you describe all these feelings I have while listening to is so well. And I can easily imagine all these wonderful experiences they had and remember all these wonderful feelings emerging inside of me while I'm in the audience.
I love the dynamics of their relationship! When I was reading for the fist time, I couldn't wait to find out how would you make these two together start the relationship and half of the chapter later they were making out in the confession booth!!! EPIC! And it was such a beautiful moment of complete sincerity, like in Paris. They opened up to themselves slowly, and though the apparent lust and passion was there from the very beginning, they do not jump at each other the first possible moment. Well, later on they do, but the initial contact is very unrushed and romantic and heart melting and so well written so the idea of taking everything at slow pace was accurately thrilling!
I love, love love all these sweet family moments, I was melting thoroughly through chapter 6 and 7 I love the tenderness they have for each other AND YEY For Feet-fetish! I've never read any gesture more cutely described than this cold feet-thingy.

Lily and Nate were so annoying with nagging Andy to tell them about her "boyfriend" Really. Ok, if they are supportive they it is fine for me.
Transmission of relationships from the movie into AU turned out very successful, Nate is a jerk, Lily is a hypocrite and Doug is So GAY and supportive, Jacqueline is a bitch, and Emily is inhibited, overly haughty girl. :D
I love the assessory plot about Andy's lost sister. It really helped to bond Miranda and Anne and you named her after me!!! I know, I know, it was a mere coincidence but I couldn't help but smile in spite of all this terrible feelings and pictures I witnessed in my head.

I love the funny moments "Andrea, I'm not waggling my tail" - I can actually picture Miranda sitting behind her desk waiting for the coffee, and Andy storming in with hot Starbucks in hand. Somehow, the obvious allegory of Miranda being a dog waggling her tail in anticipation seems to me very accurate and hilarious!

"Friends?" Miranda's voice was icy and dangerously low..." "Stuff? " XD

You mentioned the sweater!!! Really, this sweater should be in the credits! That was also the scene, than in my opinion, required easing some sexual tension between them . She's so eyeing Andy in that scene, the sex is literally pouring out of the screen. "This sweater always kills me..." well, doesn't it all kill us?
The ending: Is absolutely gorgeous. It feels like it was a good decision for Miranda to move on, to start new life with Andrea at her side and newly found profound love. i found this song: And I couldn't really stop listening to it while reading last chapters. It fits so much!
Well that was one crazy ride and I loved it! One minute I was served with happy fluff and the next minute Andrea was rescuing Caroline! After previous chapters I thought that I could not take any more angst, but eventually I ended up with this fuzzy, happy feeling so you're forgiven! :D It's very well balanced story. About the technicalities, I love that you put the titles of the songs, as I was able to find them on youtube, and it almost felt like I was there, with the characters, listening to the same music and that way you introduced me to the greatest pieces!
I think it's safe to say that reading your fic was like watching Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulai for the first time. It was filled with music and it offered me all palette of feelings to feel. It made my heart melt. It made me feel alive. Thank you for that passion you put into them. Thank you for all my tears that were rolling down my cheeks in moments of sorrow and goofy smiles I had on my face while sitting in a train as I was going through some touching, beautiful moments. It was a fairy tale, but the one that affirms life.

Huddy Tango Wallpapers

Credit goes to meaprill for providing the pictures without the watermarks! Thank you :*

Comments greedly accepted! <3

Wallpapers of Lisa E.
here two wallpapers I've made some time ago. That GOREOUS picture almost made me faint! Really, how great she is? How beautiful! Great, great great!
Plz Comment what you like, what you don't like..

Here's the same but with the text :

and pink one:

I would love to read what you think!  :D

Huddy wallpaper, spoilers of 7 season

Uploaded with

Made for my friend, but thought it would be nice to share it with you too!

Tytuł: Ciepło
Status: ukończony. (mimo, że jest tyle rzeczy które chciałam tu napisać, a nie udało mi się ująć ich w słowa)
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Nie to żebym coś kradła. Postaci należą do L. Weisberger i 2000th Century Fox :D

Mój całkiem pierwszy dziewiczy można by rzec fanfic :D Co nie oznacza, że oczekuję tylko pochwał, wręcz przeciwnie, wszelkie słowa krytyki mile widziane :D

Lekki podmuch wiatru odgarnął Mirandzie srebrne kosmyki z czoła, gdy przekręciła klucz w zamku od drzwi wejściowych. Zimno przekręcanej klamki zetknęło się z ciepłem jej idealnie gładkiej dłoni. Dłoni która codziennie  nanosiła niezliczone notatki na stronice Księgi, niwecząc tym samy nadzieje kogokolwiek w redakcji na choćby cień satysfakcji ze strony Mirandy; która jednym ruchem wyganiała spłoszonych i przerażonych pracowników. Odwiesiła płaszcz do szafy. Trzy walizki spakowane już wcześniej przez Emilu stały na podłodze. Była pewna, że wszystko zostało spakowane jak należy. Już dawno przekonała się, ze cokolwiek powierzy Emily ta zawsze będzie w stanie wykonać wszystko perfekcyjnie. Jej poświęcenie i oddanie wiele znaczyło dla Mirandy, mimo iż zwykle zbywała ten fakt milczeniem. Jej czarne półbuty od Jimmy'ego Choo odbijały się echem po wypolerowanym pakiecie, stłumione nieco szumem telewizora z pierwszego piętra. Cara czekała na nią. Dziewczyna pracowała już u niej drugi rok. Stosunkowo szybko przyzwyczaiła się do charakterystycznego sposobu bycia Mirandy. Czymże był miesiąc w porównaniu do tych wszystkich pracowników w redakcji, którzy nawet po przepracowaniu z nią ośmiu czy dziewięciu lat nadal wzdragali się na dźwięk imienia zaczynającego się na "M"?
 - Witaj Mirando - powiedziała Cara. Jej długie kolczyki dyndały beztrosko wokół okrągłej twarzy. - Kolacja czeka na stole. Francis wyszedł jakieś pięć minut temu. Czy jest jeszcze coś co mogłabym dla Ciebie zrobić?- ostatnie pytanie zadane raczej z uprzejmości niż faktycznej chęci dalszego usługiwania Mirandzie, Cara zabarwiła lekkim uśmiechem.
Czas upłynął i zmienił spojrzenie Cary na Mirandę. Gdy wzrok Mirandy spotkał się z dużymi zielonymi oczami Cary, Miranda nie mogła nie zauważyć litości która tak oczywiście biła z jej oczu.
Miranda nie dbała o to, tak samo jak nie dbała o opinię wszystkich ludzi z którymi pracowała. Zawsze czuła się samotna w swoim dążeniu do perfekcji. Nigdy nie spotkała nikogo kot podzielałby jej dążenia, dlaczego więc miałaby dbać o opinię ludzi, którzy widzieli w niej tylko wredną rozkapryszoną sukę- pracoholiczkę?
- To wszystko- Skinieniem głowy Miranda przyzwoliła dziewczynie na opuszczenie jej domu. Bez słowa pożegnania skierowała się do jadalni. Odgłos jej kroków nie był w stanie zagłuszyć cichego westchnięcia jakie dało się słyszeć ze strony frontowych drzwi.
Miranda jadła w milczeniu. O ile w pracy samotność w spożywaniu posiłków była niezbędna i nienaruszalna, tak w domu drażniła ją niezmiernie. Mimo iż minęło już 3 miesiące od rozwodu - dośc czasu, aby przyzwyczaić się do wieczornej samotność podczas czegoś tak trywialnego jak  jedzenie. Nie była to samotność wszechogarniająca, raczej cicha, zepchnięta gdzieś na drugi, kto wie czy nie na trzeci plan, drażniąca najbardziej niezbadane przez Mirandę skrawki jej osobowości.
Jej wzrok wbity gdzieś w granicę między talerzem a stekiem. Wstaje, dźwięczny odgłos obcasów uderzających o parkiet towarzyszyły jej podczas całej drogi powrotnej do holu. Jej ręka jednym zgrabnym ruchem sięga po Księgę. Księgę która codziennie przechodziła z rąk do rąk, o lekko wyświchtanej okładce. Wchodzi po schodach, odgłos obcasów tłumi niebieski dywan. Kieruje się do pokoju. Pierwszego po lewej stronie. Zapala światło. Łagodnie przyciemnione lampy wydobywały iście królewska atmosferę z ciemnych mahoniowych mebli. Siada przy biurku - jednym meblem w całym domu, który był poza zasięgiem wszelkich pomocy domowych. Wszystko zostało na nim, tak jak Miranda pozostawiła wcześniej wieczorem. Projekty nowej kolekcji Jamesa Holta, kilka starych numerów Ruynway'a, zdjęcie czteroletnich, uśmiechających się do niej niezliczoną ilością mlecznych zębów Cassidy i Caroline. W domu panuje zupełna cisza. Usadawia się z alabastrowej szyi Mirandy, przenika jej włosy. Nie ma nikogo kto zajrzałby do pokoju pytając, czy nie ma ochot na herbatę, nikogo kto próbowałby nakłonić ją, żeby położyła się do łózka bo przecież jest już późno, nikogo kto podszedł by do niej cicho pytając czy nie posiedziałaby z nimi w pokoju dopóki nie zasną.
W pokoju nie było zegarka. Nie był potrzebny. Miranda nigdy nie zamykała Księgi, dopóki nie była pewna, że każdej stronie została poświęcona należyta uwaga. Gdy wreszcie skończyła nanosić dwudziestą piąta, kto wie czy nie trzydziestą piątą poprawkę na ostatnie dwie strony odłożyła swoje okulary na biurko. Wstaje, idzie do swojej sypialni. Przechodzi koło pokoju Cassidy. Wie, że dziewczynki śpią razem. Otwiera drzwi i staje w progu. Jej oczom ukazują się dwie, dla niewprawnego oka identyczne dziewczynki, zakleszczone we wzajemnym uścisku. Głowa Caroline spoczywała na drobnej piersi Cassidy, jej ramię oplatało talię Cassidy. To właśnie Cassidy, starsza z dziewczynek zawsze była tą silniejszą siostrą, na której Caroline zawsze polegała.  Miranda nie przypomina sobie, kiedy ostatni raz położyła je do łózka. Ostatnio była tak zajęta naprawieniem błędów wynikających z niekompetencji innych ludzi, że rzadko udawało jej się dotrzeć do domu przed dwudziestą pierwszą. Wiedziała, że chcąc uczynić to pismo największym pismem o modzie na rynku musi zdobyć się na wyrzeczenia. Gdy już znajdywała chwile, najczęściej nie umiała przebywać w ich obecności.Czuła się dziwnie, gdy patrzyły na nią te same niebieskie oczy, które pełne były niepewności.. i smutku?
Dziewczynki  nie czuły się swobodnie u jej boku. Zmęczone niezręcznością, znikały w swoich pokojach, gdy tylko nadarzyła się okazji. Miranda nie miała im tego za złe. Gdzieś w środku dławiło ją tylko poczucie winy. Odwróciła się na pięcie i zamknęła za sobą drzwi.
W łazience odkręciła gorącą wodę, Ciepły strumień  zmywa z niej wszystkie myśli. Szlafrok pieści jej  skórę.

Po omacku wyłącza budzik. Czwarta nad ranem.. Kompletna ciemność. Po chwili lampka od Tiffany'ego rzuca kolorowe refleksy na ściany sypialni i na znajdującą się w niej Mirandę, zaspaną jeszcze, nieskupioną, tak nieprzypominająca w niczym Mirandy przed na której widok, ludzie byliby w stanie schować się w mysiej dziurze. Uśmiecha się na  myśl, że pewnie połowa ludzi, którzy mieli z nią styczność, nie mogła by wyjść z szoku spowodowanego widokiem Mirandy w takim stanie - z podpuchniętymi oczami, włosami kompletnie w nieładzie.
 Godzinę później wychodzi z domu, już w pełni ubrana.. Roy  czeka przy drzwiach limuzyny, otwiera dla niej drzwi, po czym zamknąwszy je idzie  aby zabrać bagaże. Całość nie trwa dłużej jak trzy minuty. Cara przekręca klucz w zamku w momencie gdy czarna limuzyna znika za  rogiem.

Wieczorem gdy Paryż zdawał się budzić do życia, Miranda pchnęła drzwi swojego apartamentu. Dzień był wyczerpujący i nie marzyła o niczym innym jak tylko wziąść szybki prysznic i spróbować zasnąć. Jednak wiedziała, że po drugiej stronie globu, są dwie małe rudowłose dziewczynki. Jej dziewczynki. Wybrała domowy numer Richarda. Zadecydowali , że podczas jej pobytu w Paryżu dziewczynki będą mieszkać z ojcem. Miranda przystała na to bez wahania. Nie widziała powodu dla którego, miałaby utrudniać mu kontakt z własnymi dziećmi.

-Tak ? - odezwał się dźwięczny głos Cary.
- Czy wszystko w porządku? - bez słowa powitania zapytała Miranda.
-Tak, Richard jest jeszcze w pracy, ale powinien się zjawić lada chwila. Dziewczynki oglądają razem Małą Syrenkę. Nie wiem  który już raz - zabarwiła ostatnie zdanie udawaną irytacją.
Miranda skinęła tylko głową, nieświadoma tego gestu Cara powiedziała:
-Moge je poprosić do telefonu jeśli sobie tego życzysz Mirando.
Pomysł ten wywołał u Mirandy lekkie zdenerwowanie. Co właściwie mogłaby powiedzieć swoim córkom, które nawet nie zauważyły, że wyjechała?
-Nie nie przeszkadzaj im. Powiedz Richardowi, że dzwoniłam i ze zadzwonię w czwartek. To wszystko- po tych słowach Miranda rozłączyła się.
Odkładając komórkę na ławę, poszła do łazienki.
Jutro czeka ją ciężki dzień.


Środa przebiegła bez spektakularnych wydarzeń, jak dotąd wszytko przebiegało gładko i zgodnie z planem. Miranda znowu zmuszona była  w myślach pochwalic Emily za jej niezaprzeczalny profesjonalizm.
Gdy w czwartek wieczorem Miranda wykręciła numer do domu Richarda nie spodziewała się dziecięcego głosu, który odebrał telefon.
-Cześć, tu mówi mama.
- Cześć mamo-. Miranda nie potrafiła poznać, czy głos należy do Caroline czy Cassidy.
-Co słychać? - to banalne pytanie było jednym które zdołała wypowiedzieć Miranda.
-Wszytko ok. - dziewczynka po drugiej stronie zdawała się być onieśmielona. Jak zwykle w rozmowę poczęła się wkradać niezręczność, która od samego początku przesłaniała wszelkie relacje Mirandy z córkami.
-Dlaczego Cara nie odebrała telefonu? Gdzie jest Cara?
-Śpi mamo. Oglądała z nami Pocahontas i zasnęła. Zeszłyśmy na dół na obiad i wtedy zadzwonił telefon więc odebrałam.
- A gdzie wasz ojciec?
-Zaraz przyjedzie z pracy. Chyba nawet teraz wszedł do domu. Chciałabyś z nim rozmawiać?
-Tak, daj mi go do telefonu.
-Witaj Mirando. - jego potulny głos przesiąkał włosy Mirandy.
Udało im się pozostać w miarę poprawnych relacjach. Wystarczająco poprawnych, aby Richard mógł bez przeszkód widywać się z dziewczynkami.
-Dobrze, byliśmy wczoraj w Central Parku, Wzięliśmy ze sobą Patricię. Świetnie się bawiliśmy --  w jego głosie dała się słyszeć nuta wyższości.. Zawsze miał z nimi dobry kontakt. Można by powiedzieć, że był stworzony do roli ojca. Miranda po cichu zazdrościła mu tej swobody w obchodzeniu się z dziewczynkami.
Czasem tak bardzo się różnili, Miranda zastanawiała się jak to się stało ze zostali małżeństwem. Richard po porostu zwariował na jej punkcie, ona długo trzymała go na dystans. Z czasem przyszły przywiązanie i uczucia. Ale to było jeszcze zanim została naczelna Runwaya'a.
-To dobrze. - powiedziała.
Jak twój pobyt w Paryżu?
-Wszystko  przebiega zgodnie z planem. Emily jak zwykle świetnie się spisała.
- Miranda.. one cię potrzebują.
Szum samochodów dobiegający z otwartego okna w jednym z paryskich apartamentów był jedynym dźwiękiem, który można było usłyszeć.
-Naprawdę uważam, że powinnaś coś z tym zrobić. Jesteś ich matką.
-To dobrze, że wiesz. Wykorzystaj ten fakt.
Miranda nie odpowiedziała ani słowem.
-Powiedz im ode mnie dobranoc.
-A dlaczego  sama tego nie zrobisz? - w jego głosie dało się słyszeć rożalenie i zawód.
Miranda rozłączyła się.
Miał rację. Teraz dotarło to do niej bardziej niż kiedykolwiek  Zaniedbała swoje dzieci emocjonalnie. .Nigdy nie chciała być matką. Nie wiedziała jak nią być. .

Reszta pobytu w Paryżu nie zaskoczyła Mirandy niczym szczególnym. Kilka kreacji przykuło jej uwagę, Emily podczas wszystkich pokazów siedziała obok niej notując wszystkie, nawet te najdrobniejsze uwagi. Nie byłoby ryzykowanym jednak stwierdzić, ze Miranda  zaczynała być tym wszystkim po prostu znudzona.

Roy wkładał ostatnią walizkę do szafy. Nozdrza Mirandy uderzył znajomy zapach, przywodzący na myśl zapach starych książek i lawendy. Odwiesiła płaszcz do szafy i oddetchneła lekko. Cara schodziła ze schodów i zanim zdążyła wypowiedzieć chociaż słowo Miranda powiedziała :
- To wszystko Roy już na ciebie czeka.
- dobranoc Mirando =-- p[powiedziała Cara i pospiesznie wyszła z mieszkania. Księga leżała już na szafce. Miranda skierowała się do salonu.

Dwie, dla niewprawnego oka identyczne dziewczynki stanęły u szczytu schodów. Trzymając się za ręce zeszły razem na dół. Duży brązowy miś, którego jedna łapka ściskana była przez małą rączkę Caroline odbijał się bezwładnie o stopnie schodów. Na widok własnej matki dziewczynki znieruchomiały.  Dwie pary identycznych, nieco zaspanych oczy wpatrywały się w Mirandę. Tych samych które patrzyły na nią za każdym razem gdy spoglądała w lustro . Jednak te oczy, w przeciwieństwo do jej własnych, nie były puste ani nieprzenikliwie. Z oczu dziewczynek bił smutek i tęsknota. Spojrzenie wywołało u Mirandy nieopanowane poczucie winy.
-Cześć dziewczynki- zdołała wykrztusić Miranda ze wzrokiem wbitym w podłogę.
 Dziewczynki podeszły do niej , po czym każda z nich oplotła swoje drobne ramiona wokół ud Mirandy.
Miranda zaskoczona tym nagłym okazaniem uczuć nadal stała ze wzrokiem wbitym w podłogę.Czuła się jeszcze bardziej niezręcznie niż kiedykolwiek.  Kolejna fala poczucia winy uderzyła Mirandę. Kierowana wewnętrznym instynktem złapała każde z rąk oplatających jej uda i wyprowadziła dziewczynki z pokoju kierując się do sypialni Cassidy.  
Zapaliła lampkę stojącą przy łóżku . Łagodne rozproszone światło muskało książkai na półce, delikatne muślinowych zasłony. Jednym ruchem podniosła i tak już skotłowaną kołdrę, dając tym samym znak dziewczynkom na położenie się do łóżka. Te posłusznie ułożyły się koło siebie. Brązowy pluszowy miś przyciskany był do piersi Cassidy.
-Mamo, nie idź - cienkim głosem powiedziała Cassidy. Nie był to rozkaz ani rządnie. Była to prośba. Te trzy słowa zdawały się dławić Mirandę, przenikać przez każdy mięsień. Cisza ponownie wypełniła cały dom.
Miranda usidła na skraju łózka.
-Idźcie spać. - powiedziała tylko.
 Zamknęły oczy, wierciły się jeszcze przez chwilę. Miranda spojrzała na nie. Mimo tego, że obie miały zamknięte oczy,bardzo dobrze wiedziała, że nie śpią.
-Dziewczynki..- powiedziała cicho Miranda.
Obie jak na komendę  natychmiastowo otworzył oczy. Miranda nie wiedziała co powiedzieć.Było jej przykro ze jej własne dzieci nie czują się na tyle swobodnie żeby zasnąć w jej obecności.
- Tak mamo? - zapytała Caroline.
Miranda ujęła jej dłoń i znowu nie wiedząc co powiedzieć, przytuliła swoją młodszą córkę.  Jej mała ruda główka spoczęła na jej piersiach, delikatny ciężar  i ciepło jej twarzy przeszywało ciało Mirandy. Poczuła rękę Cassidy na swoim ramieniu. Delikatnie uwolniła się z uścisku własnej córki i dwoma krótkimi kopnięciami zdjęła buty.Usiadła u wezgłowia łózka, przytulając do swojej piersi dwie małe główki. Jej ramiona oplotły plecy dziewczynek.  Ku zdziwieniu Mirandy  uczucie niezręczności zniknęło zupełnie, zastąpione  wszechogarniającym ciepłem, które ogarnęło ciało Mirandy.  Siedziała tam przytulając dwie małe dziewczynki. Jej dziewczynki.
Opiera głowę na ramie łóżka. Jest sobą rozczarowana.
Jej ślepe opętanie pracą i Runwayem  Stopniowo zamknęło ją w  chermetyczną klatkę, w której nie było miejsca dla ludzi którzy ją kochali, dla których cokolwiek znaczyła. Najpierw dla Richarda, potem dla dwóch małych istotek, które właśnie teraz trzymały się jej tak kurczowo. Oddechy dziewczynek wyrównały się. Miranda zamknęła oczy. Pojedyncza łza potoczyła się po jej alabastrowym policzku...


Title: Warmth
Status: one shoot.
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Desclimer: I own nothing. I make no money out of this.. blah blah blah..

Author's Note :  I wanted to throw more light on Miranda as a mother. This is my first fanfic,  any feedback will be appreciated, but   feel  free to criticise if you feel you should! 
Thanks Emma for BETA! :*

The soft gust of wind brushed away a couple of the silver strands from Miranda's forehead, as she unlocked the door of her townhouse. The cold knob touched the warmth of Miranda's soft hand which, everyday, made endless notes on the pages of the Book, destroying any hopes that the people at Runway had for any hint of Miranda's satisfaction.  The hand, which in one move chases away all these frightened people that are weaving through her office every day. She hanged up her coat in the wardrobe. Three bags, packed by Emily earlier, were already there. She was sure everything was packed as requested. It was a long ago when she realised that whatever task she imposed upon the woman, she would accomplish it with perfect professional precision. Her devotion and loyalty meant a lot to Miranda, though she has been very quiet about it.

The sound of her black Jimmy Choos stilettos echoed on the high-polished wooden parquet floor muffled by the remote sound of the TV from upstairs.
Cara was waiting for her, it had been almost a year since the girl started to work for her. She was wise and quick-witted and it took her no time at all to get used to Miranda's characteristic presence, which was one month in comparison to all these long-working employees who used to flinch every single time someone mentioned the name starting with "M"?
"Hello Miranda," said Cara. Her long earrings were bouncing loosely on her round cheeks. "Girls sleeping since 9 pm. Dinner, as always, is waiting for you on the dining table and Francis left 5 minutes ago. Is there something I could do for you?" -the last question asked more out of politeness than real desire to serve Miranda, asked with little smile.

The time that went by changed Cara's perception of Miranda. Now, when her big green eyes met Miranda’s, The Glare of The Snow Queen could exert nothing but pity... A sense of non-existent superiority that were so obviously emerging into Cara's eyes.
Miranda did not care, just as much as she did not care about the opinion of all of the people who worked with her. She always felt lonely in her aim for perfection. Never in her life had she met anyone who would share her point of view on that matter, so why would she care about people who regarded her as nothing but a mean capricious bitch of a workaholic?
"That's all" - and with a nod of her head Miranda allowed the girl to leave her home. She headed towards the door. The sound of her steps wasn't able to drown the subtle sigh that was to be heard from Miranda’s direction.

She ate in silence. And unless in the office, solitude was indispensable and inviolable, but in her home was extremely upsetting for her, even though three months had passed - enough time to get used to being alone doing something as trivial as eating. The solitude was far from overwhelming, rather a dull ache somewhere in the background, teasing the most remote areas of Miranda's mind.   The emptiness of her stare was piercing the border between her steak and the white porcelain plate.

She stands up; the ringing sound of her heels accompanies her during the walk all the way back to the hall. With one gentle move of her hand she snatches up The Book, which everyday makes its way from various sets of hands in circles, until it reaches her for endless corrections. She heads to the second floor and enters the first room on the left. She lights the light dimly giving the divinely designed room true elevated elegance. She sits by the desk - the only piece of furniture which remains out of the reach of all maidens and cleaning ladies. Everything that was there reminded in their place as Miranda had left it earlier that evening: Portfolios of the new collection by James Holt, framed picture of her daughters smiling at her with their endless number of milk teeth, and a couple of old issues of Runway.

Complete silence bathed the house, even blowing through Miranda's silver hair. There was no-one who would poke their head into the room to offer her tea, no-one who would insist that it's high time she went to bed, and no-one that would approach her quietly and ask if she would sit with them until they would fall asleep.   There was no clock in her study as there was no need for that. Miranda always made sure that every page of The Book was not left unnoticed. When she had finally finished making twenty-second or so note on the last page she put down her reading glasses.

She goes to her bedroom passing Cassidy's room. She knows that the girls probably sleep together in her bed. She opens the door and leans on doorframe. In front of her, two girls cuddled up tightly are sleeping. Cassidy was sleeping on her back, with Caroline's head resting on her chest. Her little arm entwined Cassidy's little waist. Yes, the older daughter always was this stronger one, the one who Caroline always relied on.   Miranda couldn't recall the last time she tugged them into bed. The last few weeks were so filled up with work and fixing results of workers' incompetence that it was very hard to be home earlier than 9pm. She knew that if she wanted to make that magazine the finest fashion magazine in the world she has to set herself some priorities. In that case it was Runway that was of higher priority than that of her daughters most of the time.  There were times when she was able to lavish the girls with her presence, but in these she didn't feel comfortable. A strange feeling of awkwardness tugged at Miranda's heart when those two pairs of the blue eyes glared at her occasionally. Apparently, the girls themselves didn't feel natural by her side. Every time they would find some way to run away from her, and always disappearing from Miranda's view. She didn't mind, but somewhere in the depth of her heart she felt a small surge of mixture of guilt and helplessness.

She turned off the light on the bedside table, turned on her heel and closed the study door behind her.  In the bathroom, she turned the hot water which, as it streamed, washed away all her thoughts. Her head was now relieved from all of her ponderings as her silk nightgown envelops her smooth skin.

She wakes up and, still blind, she turns of the alarm clock. Complete darkness. After a brief moment the Tiffany lamp bathes the bedroom and Miranda in multiple soft colours. Miranda, who is still very sleepy and unfocused, very unlike the Miranda that easily arousing fear in everybody,  smiles at the fact that probably more than half of these people could not fathom the shock caused by seeing her like that, with her hair totally messed up and swollen eyes. She was human, after all.  An hour later, fully dressed she walked through the door of her townhouse. Roy is already waiting by the doors of her limousine. He opens them up for her, and then directs himself to the wardrobe to grab all Miranda luggages. The whole activity does not take more than three minutes. The car disappears around the corner as Cara is turning the key in front door.

In the evening, as Paris seemed to be waking up, Miranda pushed the door of her apartment. It was long tiring day and she dreamed about nothing else but taking a shower and trying to fall asleep. However, all that was on her mind was that on the other side of the globe, there were two small girls, her daughters who hadn’t even noticed her departure.
She dialled the number to the Richard's house. She asked if the girls could stay at his house during her stay in Paris. He agreed without any hesitation. Why would she limit his access to his own children? Miranda had no reason to do so.
"Hello?" - Cara's young voice rang in the receiver.
"Is everything all right?" - Miranda knew she didn't have to introduce herself.
"Yes, Richard is supposed to be home in one hour and girls are upstairs watching Little Mermaid for perhaps, I don't know, the trillionth time now... - There was fake irritation to be heard in Cara's voice.  Miranda nodded her head which obviously couldn't be noticed by Cara and silence fell between the two women.
"I can get them on the phone if you wish Miranda"
This idea didn't please Miranda very much; it actually caused a quick pang of nervousness throughout Miranda's body. What would she say to two seven year-old girls with whom she hadn't exchange a word with in 4 days..?
"No, don't disturb them. Tell Richard that I called and will call him at Thursday. That's all." Miranda hanged up without any word of goodbye. Putting down the cell phone on the coffee table in front of her she headed to the bathroom. Tomorrow was going to be an exhausting day.

Wednesday proceeded without any spectacular events or unexpected failures... So far everything was running smoothly and as planned. Miranda once again had to admit that the professionalism of Emily was highly satisfying.
When Thursday evening arrived, Miranda called Richard's house. She hadn't expected the undeniable sound of one of her daughters’ voice at the other end of the receiver.
"Oh, hello, it's your Mother speaking"
"Hi mum" - Miranda couldn't tell if the voice that was speaking to her belonged to Cassidy weather to Caroline.
"How are you?" that was the only simple question Miranda could think of.
"Everything's great, mum" The girl at the other side seemed to be intimidated by the fact that she was talking to her mum. As always, that common feeling of awkwardness that engulfed all Miranda's "conversations" with her daughters had returned.
"Why Cara didn't pick up the phone? Where is Cara?"
"Um….. She’s sleeping, mum. She was sitting with us watching Pocahontas and she fell asleep. We went down to the dining room for dinner and then you rang so i picked up "
"Where's your dad?" -asked Miranda.
"He will be home in short time. Wait, I think he's coming in right now."
"Could you ask him to come over and speak with me?" The phone was passed to Richard
"Hi Miranda" - his meek voice was blowing through Miranda's silver hair.
They had managed to retain a decent relationship, well decent enough to ensure he would be able to see his daughters.
"How are the girls?" - asked Miranda. After all that was the reason she called.
"Good. Yesterday, we took a nice walk around Central Park. We took Patricia with us. We had a great time." Miranda could hear a hint of superiority in his voice. Indeed, he was very good father. Miranda quietly envied him that ease he had in building a relationship with his daughters. He was just natural for the job.

 Sometimes Miranda and Richard were so different and there were times when she wondered how did it happen? How did they marry? She was keeping him at distance for long time. Was she inadequate for the generous man? As the time went by she lowered her guards down for him. But this was before she took over the editor-in -chief of Runway.
"Very well" - she managed to choke two words.
"How it's in Paris?"
"Good, Emily as always has done her homework"
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence. Miranda could sense that Richard was about to tell her something... Soon she found out she was right.
"Miranda, they miss you." The apartment in Paris reminded quiet.
"I know" - she said in small voice though really she was far from believing it.
"Really, I think it's high time you did something to show them that you care. You are their mother!."
"I know"
"That's good you know, Miranda. Use that knowledge"
After another one minute of uncomfortable silence she managed to say "Say goodnight to them from me"
"Why don't you do it yourself?" as the phone was passed to one of her daughters, she hung up, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

He was right. It hit her now more than anything. She had neglected her daughters emotionally in every field possible. She didn't know how to be a mother. She never wanted to be a mother.

The rest of the week in Paris didn't surprise Miranda in any way. A couple of creations captured Miranda attention. Emily was, as always, at her side writing down every command. It wouldn't be risky to say that Miranda was simply beginning to become bored with all the hassle that being an editor-in-chief entailed.

Roy has just put the last of the luggage in the wardrobe. He said a quick goodbye and left the townhouse. A familiar smell enveloped Miranda's nose as she came in. She sighed lightly.
Cara was descending the stairs. Her long earrings still bouncing around her cheeks.
"That's all. Roy is waiting for you" said Miranda before the girl managed to utter a word.
"Goodnight Miranda," - she snatched her coat and went out. Miranda headed to the living room.

For the inexperienced observer two identical girls were standing at the top of the stairs. They went down the stairs hand in hand. A brown teddy, who was clutched tightly in Caroline's hand, was dragging against the floor.
At the sight of their mother the girls stopped in their tracks.  Two pairs of blue eyes were starring at Miranda, the very same eyes that looked at her every day, in the mirror.  But her daughters' eyes, in opposite to her own, weren't at this particular moment or any moment empty. Their eyes were filled with longing and disappointment.  At that moment, the strong wave of pain and guilt hit Miranda.
"Hi girls" she managed to utter, her eyes transfixed at the floor.
The girls approached her slowly, sensing fear, each trusted themselves around her legs which, today, were enveloped in black Valentino pants.  Miranda surprised by this open expression of feelings was standing there, still her eyes transfixed at the floor. She was feeling more awkward than ever but, acting on instinct, grabbed two small hands that were clutching her thighs and walked out of the room heading towards Cassidy's bedroom. She opened the door, light the lamp on bedside table and brushed away the already messed up quilt indicating to the girls to get into bed.

The dim light bathed the books on shelves and the blue silk curtains. The girls put themselves obediently into bed, fearful of what would happen if they didn’t. The brown teddy-bear was placed on Caroline's chest wrapped in her arms, the blue eyes still staring at Miranda.
"Mum, please don't leave" Cassidy said in small voice. It was not a command nor was it a demand rather a request. A request for what, was not yet within her children’s grasp.  These four words seemed to choke Miranda deeper than anything has ever done before. That eerie silence again filled the townhouse. Without looking towards the girls she sat at the edge of the bed.
"Now, go to sleep" - was all she said.

The girls closed their eyes and seemed to toss and turn for what Miranda thought was forever. Miranda looked at them. Despite of the fact that their eyes were undeniably closed, Miranda knew they were not sleeping. She was distraught, knowing that her own children weren't even comfortable enough to fall asleep in her presence.
"Girls…" she whispered.
They both simultaneously opened their eyes.  Not expecting a response, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't overcome the fact that her own children were feeling unsafe when she was around.
"What mum?" asked Caroline.
Miranda, instinctively grabbed Caroline's little palm. Not knowing what to say, she simply wrapped her younger daughter in her arms. Her small head rested on her chest. Light in weight and in warmth, her daughter's body brought about an overwhelming sense of safety.  At that moment she felt Cassidy's hand on her arm. She softly released herself from her daughter's tiny arms and kicking off her black Jimmy Choos, she sat in the centre of the bed with each arm around her daughter's small backs. Their heads rested on her abdomen and she was sure that right now, they girls can feel her heartbeat.

To her surprise that feeling of awkwardness disappeared and was replaced with a wave of warmth that encircled Miranda's body. She was hugging two little girls. Her girls. It was at this moment she realised that these two little beings cuddled up with her right now are really present in her life.
She rests her head on the bed frame. Miranda is deeply disappointed at herself.

Her obsessive compulsion with work and perfection set aside everyone that ever meant anything to her. Gradually she had locked herself in a cage that solely existed as a place where people who loved her were excluded, those who right now were clutching to her so tightly. As her daughters' breaths became smooth with sleep, one crystal tear rolled down her cheek.

                                                                                                 The End.


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