I wonder to myself
Could life ever be sane again ?
The Leeds side-streets that you slip down
I wonder to myself
Hopes may rise on the Grasmere
But Honey Pie, you're not safe here

It was cool and windy outside, blowing her dark brown locks to wrap around her neck and face. Her knitted sweater was loose, yet warm on her torso enough to shield her from the autumn winds.

Today she decided to walk to her boss' house to give her the book since there was no dry cleaning that was needed to be picked up and the large book was done earlier than expected.

On her journey, she walked as she pondered on everything the older woman had done. One particular thought was how bad dry cleaning was for the environment and that if Miranda was so worried about her overly expensive clothes getting ruined in the wash, then why doesn't she just buy more durable clothes? But of course that would be nonsense and Miranda wouldn't ever compromise her wardrobe just to save a few baby polar bears. Come to think of it, with how many outfits Miranda has dry cleaned, and how many photos she has reprinted again and again with slight changes, she could be the sole reason for this planet's depleting ozone. But Andy would never tell her that. Then she wondered if Miranda cared about the environment, if she made donations or anything like that prior to Andy's start at Runway. She wondered if Miranda cared about anything like Andy did; Homeless, Recessions, orphans, foster kids that bounced from home to home, abused people, unpunished crimes, And- no. Andy's mind was not allowed to go into this place. Not while she was a block away from Miranda's, going TOWARD Miranda's, to possibly SEE Miranda and maybe have a heart attack induced from her face and delicious curves. Maybe later, when she's home in bed, not able to sleep because of those icy blue eyes haunting her mind, tattooed on the inside of her eyelids.

Before she knew it, her assistant copy of the townhouse's key was in the lock and she was opening the door, stepping over the threshold into the dragon's den. Of course it didn't look like a dragon's den, it actually looked like a house that might be in the pages of GQ with someone like Catherine Zetta Jones casually sprawled across the couch in a three-thousand dollar outfit and the makeup ready for the runway.

The sound of her black heels was like the light sound of a pen tapping on a marble counter top. She quietly placed the book on the table with flowers, but when her feet stopped moving, she still heard the sound. And that's when she realized that it was in fact a pen tapping on a marble counter top as she had a direct line into the kitchen where she saw a head full of white hair being toyed with delicate hands in what seemed like frustration. Andy just lingered there, absorbing all she could of the curve of Miranda's back and her hair and this raw emotion she saw. It was something so small but something she savored whenever she got the chance; the REAL Miranda.

But then, that Miranda rounded the white island to the fridge and ended up locking her eyes on Andrea's gooey looking face. At first she was uncomfortable at the discovery of her assistant just standing there, staring. But when she saw the look on her face, it made this strange tingle in her chest. The same tingle she had at the age 16, in the back of her childhood friend Stephanie's car. She didn't know what to do for a moment, so she just sat down and called her name with the most velvet tone she could hold.

"Andrea."

What Andy was doing could now be fairly called ogling, now that her attention was on Miranda's backside which was comfortably tight in a pair of blue jeans. She watched how Miranda tiredly treaded to the fridge; she looked tired and stressed and it was so adorable she melted. But Miranda's cuteness turned to ice as she spotted her, causing Andy to have an internal rant of "Oh shit." She couldn't move as she was waiting to be screamed at, well Miranda's version of screaming which was scarily quiet. Sometimes it didn't even have words at all, just a single glare and you were done; pulverized; your body burned from the inside out.

She was surprised to see Miranda return to her seat like she wasn't there, until she called her voice.

"y-yes?"

"Come in here." Miranda spoke without looking up from her paper, putting her glasses on.

Andy shuffled her feet across the floor, fixing her hair and clothes before finally reaching the kitchen.

"Book." She stuck her manicured hand out.

Andy handed her the book and rocked back and forth on her heels while waiting for her to do something to break the silence that was slowly yet achingly growing. Her hand crept up to her mouth and she nibbled on the tip of her nail, a habit she had tried to get rid of, yet when in awkward situations, was hard to do.

"Honestly, you look like a toddler swaying and biting your nails like that, Andrea." She said while flipping a page.

"I- Sorry." She put her hands to her side and stood pin straight, staring into the cabinet's brass knob overtop the stove, forcefully ingraining it to her memory.

"Now you look like you're guarding the Windsor Castle. Please, relax and sit down." She patted the stool next to her. "Unless you have some other place to be." She asked, not really wanted an answer.

"No, not at all." Andy quickly sat on the stool and dared a glance at the book. Miranda of course took notice in her own quiet, yet observant way.

"What do you think of these cover options? The font and such."

"Well the font is too big in this one," She looked for approval before reaching to point, which Miranda gave her in a single nod "It makes you feel a little overwhelmed. And her hair is in her face here, almost looks like it's in her mouth." Andy took her hand away slowly, timid like a child, trying her best to restrain from biting her nail.

Miranda took out a bright pink sticky note, also known as the 'I want to see immediate change' note, and scribbled on it; Switch cover A font with cover B. Use A photo.

They continued viewing the book silently until then and again when Miranda wanted Andrea's honest opinion. They did this for an hour, until Miranda abruptly closed the book and took off her glasses.

"It's late and you should be getting home. We have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow." Miranda rushed as she stood, smoothing out her jeans with her pale hands.

"You're right." Andrea walked away and heard the pad of bare feet behind her. Miranda waited behind her as she opened the door almost impatiently. "Good night Miranda." Andy gave her a sincere smile and she couldn't help but give a slightly flustered smirk in return.

"Good night Andrea." And then she closed the door and Andy heard her deadbolt and chain it with urgency.