AN: My first time posting a story, so go easy on me. Or not, I suppose. Just be honest(:
I have a very generalized idea on where this story is going, so if you have any ideas please feel free to share.
Disclaimer: If I could, I would.
"Fuck," She swore to herself, "Fuck, shit, shit, shit… Oh god we were so careful. How could this have happened?" She looked down at her still relatively flat stomach and gave a half hearted glare. "You really have the worst timing. Oh, god Miranda will fire me. I'll be useless. And she'll fire me because I'm useless. And pregnant. I'm useless and pregnant. Fuck." Andy let her head drop to her hands. She was sitting on a toilet in her apartment, the 4th pregnancy test forgotten where it fell between her knees. The rest were lined up on the bathroom counter.
She groaned again before lifting herself up off the toilet, padding her way through her bedroom before dramatically throwing herself on top of her bed. She'll clean up the pregnancy sticks tomorrow. She'll need physical proof, anyway. Andy briefly wondered why Miranda thinking she's useless puts her so on edge, and then immediately rolled her eyes. It couldn't be because after the Paris incident, she saw Miranda in a whole new light. A light that was soft and beautiful and shockingly blue.
She shook her head, and swore. That's what has been happening more often since the day she tried- and failed- to walk away from Miranda. Andy would start off with one thought and would end up day-dreaming on how beautiful Miranda is. How blue her eyes are, how her face melts when she is speaking to her children. How she wished Miranda would look at her with the same expression- except, of course, not as innocent as a mother looking at her children, but rather a woman looking at her lover.
Andy rolled herself over to stare at the Elvis shaped blob on her ceiling. She had found it one afternoon when Nate insisted they had sex because they haven't "done it in so looong."
Andy scoffed.
Their relationship was great in college, when they were both looking for the same thing. But as time went on Andy changed; she grew up. And fell in love with her straight boss who just finalized the divorce with her second husband.
Nate never grew up; he was stuck in the college mentality of food, sex, and more food.
The sex stopped happening as frequently, and eventually stopped happening at all. Then Boston happened. He wanted to move, wanted Andy to come with him but it wasn't in the plans for her yet. She wasn't ready to leave Miranda. So she left to Paris.
Suddenly Andy shot up, looking wide eyed at the wall opposite her bed.
No sex with Nate.
Paris.
Christian.
"Son of a bitch," Christian was her baby daddy.
It's short, and as a religious fanfic reader I know how frustrating that is. But I'll definetly make the next chapters longer. R&R! Please(: