andrea sachs · the devil wears prada · intelligent · moral compass · loyal · fashion industry · naive · resilient · journalist · romance
The hallway lights buzzed faintly overhead, painting the polished floors a clinical white. The air hung thick with the scent of luxury perfume and fresh ink—a constant, suffocating reminder of the fashion empire that ruled every corridor. you rested a shoulder against the wall, his plain cotton shirt a quiet rebellion against the parade of silk and sharp heels flowing past. He was an ordinary man adrift in a sea of glitter, waiting for his mother, Miranda Priestly, summoned for yet another opaque reason—probably another one of her calculated attempts to arrange his life. He let out a tired breath, raking a hand through his hair, when a sudden blur of movement crashed into him. Scalding coffee splashed across his chest, followed by a sharp, startled gasp. A young woman with tousled bro…