Delicate - Emily Blunt x Reader

24 - Down Bad

"Show me that this world is bigger than us. Then sent me back where I came from."
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Alisa could not have been more right. The story about the affair between Nolan and Natalia blew up faster than any other gossip this year.

And, as expected, Emily is the pity subject of the century. People feel bad for her.

She doesn't deserve any of this.

Will she ever find a healthy relationship?

What does this emotional roller coaster mean for her acting career?

You know how much Emily hates it all. The stories making her seem weak and the reactions as if she can't handle herself. Dwayne was right, though. Emily is the strongest woman you have ever met. She'll get through this.

To make matters worse, you haven't spoken since.

The premiere is tonight, and the media is buzzing with predictions of who is going to show up or not. Not even Alisa knows who will be in attendance.

Though it hasn't been confirmed, you know that Emily will. There's no way she'll let people think she's too emotionally vulnerable to have to miss her biggest movie premiere since Oppenheimer.

The big question is whether or not Nolan will be there. How will he interact with Emily? Will he bring Natalia? How much of a wreck will Emily be with him there? She's always been great at putting on a face, but will she be able to tonight?

Your phone buzzes on your bedside table. The thought of the upcoming events tonight has prevented you from getting out of bed this morning. But with the premiere in just a few hours, you know you can't stay here for much longer.

Alisa may have saved you from the original article being prevented, but people know who you are. They know your name. You have to dress to impress. Not just for the public. For Emily.

"Come on, Y/N," Louis appears in your doorway as if reading your mind, "No more sulking."

"I have every right to sulk," you roll your eyes and swing your legs over the side of the bed. The cold hardwood floors feel good against your bare feet, especially with the blazing southern California heat.

"Not anymore," Louis smirks then steps aside.

Emily slides into view, her arms wrapped around her torso self consciously. She is wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair is tangled but lays flat enough on her head, and her face is barren of makeup.

"Hey," you break the silence, trying your best not to smile.

"Hey," Emily nods once, her eyes trailing around the room and looking at everything but you.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, and Louis takes this as his hint to leave the two of you alone.

Emily shuts the bedroom door behind her and sinks to the floor, her back leaning against it. "I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get through tonight alone."

You sigh. And make your way over to her. You sit cross legged on the floor across from her. "So you want me to do what?"

Emily hugs her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She finally looks at you. Dark circles now evident underneath her blue eyes. She shrugs and whispers, "I don't know."

"But you came here, so you must have some sort of idea," you reply impatiently.

Emily swallows, "Would you go with me?"

"I'm already going to be there."

"No, as my date," Emily says forcefully, as if this is the last resort and she doesn't really want to have you hooked on her arm all night.

"I don't know, Emily," you shake your head, shifting uncomfortably in your seat on the floor.

"Please, Y/N," the desperation in Emily's voice is coming through now more than ever, "I will never ask anything of you ever again after tonight. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't exhaust all other options. I need you. Please."

"Fine," you blurt out before you consider all the ways tonight could go wrong and break your heart more than your friendship with Emily already has.

Emily sighs with relief, "Thank you!"

You force a smile.

"I owe you. Big time."

"Yeah," you huff and push yourself off the floor. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"I was thinking about it," Emily tries to make a joke, but you don't laugh. Half of you is mad at her for being here and asking such a huge favor of you. One more thing to add to the list of things you've done to try and win Emily Blunt's heart. One more thing to add to the list of fails.

"Go change," you snap, "I wanna leave in two hours." Emily stands and you push past her to go to the bathroom.

Emily grabs your wrist as you pass. "Thank you, Y/N. I mean it. I don't deserve anything from you. I know that. But I appreciate it more than you'll ever know."

"No problem," you reply. But it is a problem. Your mind is already running through all of the possible ways you're going to get hurt tonight. You've spent time with Emily before, and leaving her then has ached. But this time? You're actually pretending to be in love. This one is going to tear you apart.

A black cocktail dress is draped over the frosted glass door of the shower in the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and slip into it mindlessly. You powder your face in a light coat of makeup, just enough to make sure you don't look washed out in the red carpet photos but not enough to make you look like someone else. You pull your hair into a tight ponytail on the top of your head, using gel to slick back the fly-aways. As a finishing touch, you carefully line your lips with bold red lipstick.

Louis knocks on the door, and you open it for him, "You're really gonna go as her date?"

"You eavesdropper," you chuckle.

"I'm serious, Y/N," Louis says, "You've done more than enough for her. This is too much."

"But what if this is the night that pretending becomes real?"

"And what if it isn't? She's hurting I get that, but so are you. Stop for just a second and think about what this is going to do to yourself," Louis pats you on the shoulder before turning back down the hall and calling back, "You look amazing!"

Emily takes his place in the doorway, "He's right. You're gonna make me look bad just standing next to you."

"Impossible," you smile over at her. She wears a simple white strapless dress, hugging her around the waist and showing the top of her chest. Her hair flows down over her shoulders in a natural beach wave. Here are you, trying to look your best, and Emily outshines you without even trying.

"Can you zip me up?" Emily turns around.

You brush her hair out of the way and gently pull up the zipper on the back of her dress. It makes you think of all the times you helped her in the dressing room on set. And then the few times where sparks flew when you did. This time is like most of the rest, though. Professional. Like you're still getting paid minimum wage for it. Nothing here is intimate like before the parties. Or after them.

"Thank you," Emily says bashfully. "You really do look stunning, Y/N."

"Thanks," you nod, grabbing the red lipstick on your way out the door in case of a need to reapply throughout the night.

"Shall we?" Emily holds out her arm, and you loop yours through it.

Here's to a night where anything might happen.

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"For a moment I was heaven struck."