Heartless Romantic | PG13 | The Devil Wears Prada
Title: Heartless Romantic
Prompt: It’s Stephen’s night with Miranda, and Andy is miserable.
Challenge: A to Z Drabble Meme; J is for Jealousy
Fandom: Miranda/Andy, Miranda/Stephen, The Devil Wears Prada
Requested by: magicmumu
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 386
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I always say I’m going to write less-angsty stories whenever I dabble back in the fandom, and yet…I never do. Angst-central right here, folks. I hope you like it anyway! Let me know what you think.
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It’s Stephen’s night with Miranda, and Andy is miserable.
To put it in such a way makes Miranda seem like a possession, like a rag doll shared amongst two selfish children. In a way, that is the perfect summation of their…arrangement.
Miranda loves them both. Miranda sleeps with them both.
Stephen knows about Andy, and Andy knows about Stephen.
They say nothing because if they do, the arrangement will end, and neither of them is willing to give Miranda up. They are too proud, too desperate, and too in love to let her go.
In the end, it’s Miranda who wields all the power, who has made this decision to be available to two people, both of whom want her completely. Miranda doesn’t want to be needed so much. She gives all of herself to her magazine. At the end of the day, there are only fractured pieces of herself that are leftover.
Andy wonders if this is why she’s with them both: to protect herself from being needed too much in a personal life that exists for mere hours a week. She knows that when Miranda is with her, she is the only one who exists. She shuts off the part of herself that belongs to Stephen and is completely, wholly present with Andy.
Which means, by logical assumption, that Andy stops existing when Miranda is with her husband.
She burns with jealousy on the nights she’s alone, the uncomfortable tightening of her stomach accompanying the feeling of ice water in her veins. She closes her eyes to the images of what Miranda might be doing or feeling or saying.
Andy agreed to this arrangement because she wanted Miranda, wanted whatever she could have. Once upon a time she’d been a hopeless romantic, believing that their little sliver of love could outweigh all of the complications that surrounded them.
Seven months later, and Andy isn’t that woman anymore. What once was love is shrouded by jealousy, bitterness, resentment. She thinks sometimes that maybe she doesn’t have a heart at all anymore.
But she knows with unwavering certainty that she will see this arrangement to its very end. She will not be the one to let go, even if it means that Miranda will one day grow tired of her and use her up completely.
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Prompt: It’s Stephen’s night with Miranda, and Andy is miserable.
Challenge: A to Z Drabble Meme; J is for Jealousy
Fandom: Miranda/Andy, Miranda/Stephen, The Devil Wears Prada
Requested by: magicmumu
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 386
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I always say I’m going to write less-angsty stories whenever I dabble back in the fandom, and yet…I never do. Angst-central right here, folks. I hope you like it anyway! Let me know what you think.
-
It’s Stephen’s night with Miranda, and Andy is miserable.
To put it in such a way makes Miranda seem like a possession, like a rag doll shared amongst two selfish children. In a way, that is the perfect summation of their…arrangement.
Miranda loves them both. Miranda sleeps with them both.
Stephen knows about Andy, and Andy knows about Stephen.
They say nothing because if they do, the arrangement will end, and neither of them is willing to give Miranda up. They are too proud, too desperate, and too in love to let her go.
In the end, it’s Miranda who wields all the power, who has made this decision to be available to two people, both of whom want her completely. Miranda doesn’t want to be needed so much. She gives all of herself to her magazine. At the end of the day, there are only fractured pieces of herself that are leftover.
Andy wonders if this is why she’s with them both: to protect herself from being needed too much in a personal life that exists for mere hours a week. She knows that when Miranda is with her, she is the only one who exists. She shuts off the part of herself that belongs to Stephen and is completely, wholly present with Andy.
Which means, by logical assumption, that Andy stops existing when Miranda is with her husband.
She burns with jealousy on the nights she’s alone, the uncomfortable tightening of her stomach accompanying the feeling of ice water in her veins. She closes her eyes to the images of what Miranda might be doing or feeling or saying.
Andy agreed to this arrangement because she wanted Miranda, wanted whatever she could have. Once upon a time she’d been a hopeless romantic, believing that their little sliver of love could outweigh all of the complications that surrounded them.
Seven months later, and Andy isn’t that woman anymore. What once was love is shrouded by jealousy, bitterness, resentment. She thinks sometimes that maybe she doesn’t have a heart at all anymore.
But she knows with unwavering certainty that she will see this arrangement to its very end. She will not be the one to let go, even if it means that Miranda will one day grow tired of her and use her up completely.
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