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Love is in the air

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24.

Sunday greets Miranda with sunbeams streaming through the half open curtains -promises of a warm day and clear sky-, a pleasant ache still lingering between her legs, as a welcomed reminder of the previous night's activities, and complete quiet taking over the whole house. 
And, most disappointingly, an empty bed. 
Stretching an arm to slightly graze the sheets on Andrea's side, the white haired woman cannot restrain herself from pouting, noticing the coolness of the fabric -sign that her partner must have been out of bed for a while.

Highly unacceptable.

Taking her time to get up, Miranda lazily grabs her phone from the nightstand to check the awaiting notifications before finally padding her way towards the en-suite. After washing her face, brushing her teeth and putting on the light silk robe hanging from the hook, Miranda decides that it's due time to go find her wife, scold her for daring to leave the comfort of their cocoon, bump their way back into said cocoon and make love till the Twins will, unavoidably, come demanding their attention. 
Her wife.
Miranda still finds herself extremely astonished and overjoyed whenever her eyes land on the simple, yet elegant, band adorning her ring finger. Or Andrea's, for that matter.


The first stop is the family room which, unsurprisingly, is empty and still. Remainders of yesterday's movie night still scattered around the space bring a small smile to Miranda's lips -along with a groan for the mess and a mental note to have the children clean the room spotless, at a later time.

The kitchen it is, then.

 

Andrea is standing in front of the stove, indeed. Miranda cannot find it in herself to speak, just yet, and break the calm and cozy atmosphere in the room. 
To be fully honest, she's also very much admiring her beautiful wife in the satin sleep shorts and Northwestern tshirt she favors to sleep in. Because, well, a sleepy Andrea Priestly with her hair up in a messy bun, barefoot and humming some slow melody, in their kitchen -that is a sight to behold and one that Miranda hasn't really gotten used to, yet. Despite the years, she is confident she probably never will, at this point.

"Do you plan on just standing there and stare at me for much longer?" Andy asks, dragging Miranda out of her reverie.
Chuckling softly, the older woman fully enters the room to approach her lover. "I certainly would not complain."
Circling  the brunette's waist with both arms, Miranda takes her sweet time nuzzling the nape of Andrea's head, leaving a trail of warm kisses -and a few gentle nibbles- along her neck and shoulders.

Sighing in pure bliss, Andy turns her head to grant better access. "Good morning, Love." 
"Well, it is now," Miranda murmurs. "You see," she continues, her hands now on a quest over her partner's ribcage, "I woke up in a far too cold and empty bed, for my liking." 
"Always dramatic, you Priestly women." Grabbing one of the Editor's hands, Andrea places a soft kiss on its palm before shushing the woman away, 'before you make me burn these pancakes and then I would love to see you explain that to the Girls.'

 

It's about fifteen minutes later that Andrea joins Miranda at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee of her own and a small stack of pancakes and fruit salad for them to share. 
Raising her eyes from the newspaper in her hands, Miranda distractedly asks, "Is this a new blend? It tastes different than Stumptown's."  
Andrea, who is currently chewing on a piece of melon, simply nods. 

"Now then," Miranda says, suddenly. 
Andrea knows what her wife is referring to; she's been internally both jumping in excitement and trembling in -nonsensical, she's well aware- insecurity ever since the other woman has appeared at the archway. 
Her hands are sweaty, her heart's madly thumping in her chest and she's almost about to burst. 

Mouth agape, Miranda finally reveals the homemade card that has fallen out from between the paper's pages. "Andrea? What is the meaning of this?"
"Open it," the brunette replies, with a little smile. 

The card is made of thick, yellow construction paper. The front of is adorned with a non descriptive mix of hearts and flowers, along with a few more, poorly sketched, more specific details that are purely Priestlys -an airplane silhouette, a pair of heels, a softball, and a book. 
Inside, though.

Inside, on the right there's a flourish of colors surrounding the words 'Happy Mother's Day'. 
Andrea is anxiously, and excitedly, staring at her wife's beautiful face in order not to miss anything. Miranda, on the other hand, is holding the bright piece of paper like it's made of crystal, and much more valuable however.

"Read it," Andy whispers, referring to the left side where more writing is awaiting.
Miranda does read it out loud, then, in a half broken voice and sobs barely contained.

'You've given me the most precious of gifts in sharing your life, your real self, and your family with me. 
I am the luckiest woman -aside from you- to be able to call myself the Mother of two such incredible kids, as our daughters are. You are the most wonderful, caring, loving woman I could have ever wished to build a family with.

And now, I hope you are ready for the next big adventure of our lives. Together.
As a family of five

Now and forever Yours,   
Andrea'


"The coffee is Stumptown," Andrea manages to says, a beat later, clutching Miranda's one hand that isn't reverently holding the card. "Decaf blend."