Chapter Text
“Fuck m-mhm” Your protests cut off as Miranda’s lips crash into yours, the two of you stumbling over your unmade bed while you toss aside the last piece of her clothing.
Your hands roam over the smooth plane of her back when a loud ring slices through the room.
Miranda doesn’t stop—she never does—her mouth trailing down your neck as her hand finds yours, guiding it to the curve of her ribs. Another ring cuts through.
“Will somebody answer the goddamn phone?” Miranda pants against your ear. Her irritation evident as the shrill ringing continues from someone’s phone that was tossed somewhere on the ground along with the rest of your clothes in your rush to get your hands on each other.
“I’ll get it.” You pull away reluctantly, leaving a sweet peck on the corner of Miranda’s lips.
She falls back against your sheets, eyeing your naked form as you sift through the mess of clothes scattered across the floor.
“Someone’s better be dead” Miranda mutters, “or else I’ll have to do it myself.” Miranda grumbles, completely annoyed over the fact that someone’s phone keeps blowing up on the night where the both of you should be enjoying your time together.
It has been two weeks since you’ve had each other like this aloneand uninterrupted.
Between Miranda’s busy schedule as the Editor-in-Chief of Runway and your recent promotion to Assistant Creative Director, time together has been a luxury; and the fact that you had to keep your relationship a secret. You didn’t want to add more noise to the scandal as Miranda finalizes her divorce. You’ve done a great job at hiding it well.
Nobody knows.
Well, no one except Nigel and nothing gets past him.
Perhaps, the longing look you give Miranda as she wraps up her brief meeting with your superior is not as unnoticeable as it seemed.
“You look like a starving calf, do you need your mother’s milk?” He points out your metaphorically hanging jaw. “Here’s some water, that milk would be as fine as the sand in sahara.”
The look he gave you made your hands tremble as you took the glass of water he offered “Please don’t tell anyone.” You plead.
You never told Miranda about that encounter.
Which is why you were completely thrown off guard one night when Nigel dropped by to your appartment, unannounced.
“Need to speak with Miranda,” he said.
And then—
“Ah. There you are.”
Miranda didn’t even blink.
You were still processing how he knew and why Miranda is so calm about it. In the end you just accepted the fact that, Nigel knows and Miranda does not care.
“If I hear that phone ring one more time—“ Miranda snaps, fisting your sheets.
You finally find it, half hidden beneath the black dress she wore tonight.
“It’s yours” you confirmed with her.
Miranda exhales sharply “Answer it.”
Startled by her response you stutter “Are you sure?”
Her cold and impatient glare meet yours, “Did I stutter? Quickly. Now, come back here.” Then softer, “I need you” she pats the spot next to her.
You stand up as you try to gather the courage to answer the call. You padded towards the bed as your thumb hovers over the screen.
“It’s Andy” you said.
Miranda frowns “Who?”
“Your new Emily”. You sat on the bed and answered the call.
“Hello?” You greeted
“Hi—hello, Miranda!” Andy’s voice come through rushed and breathless.
You were about to correct her when you felt Miranda’s arm snake around your waist, as she drops featherlight kisses on your shoulder.
You manage to stutter a weak “Y-yes?”
“Listen, Emily told me to call you to deliver the news.” Andy says taking quick breaths in between
“What is it?” Your breath shudders as you felt Miranda’s hands running up and down your bare skin.
Andy took a deep breath before dropping the bomb, Miranda’s hand stilled against your navel.
“Irv’s dead”.