𝕰𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 (Rosamund Pike)

It was enchanting meeting you (Rosamund Pike x Reader)

           Working in fashion has it's perks, and one of them is meeting people with the potential of changing your life.

           •---------•---------•---------•---------•---------•

     Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"
         'Cross the room your silhouette

Dedicated. Strong. Talented.

There are so many adjectives that can get you high enough in the feeling of being an accomplished young individual in the ruthless, cold and empty fashion world.

From building up a career from the bottom to the top. Coming from a small american family and a calm a street, to the heartfelt European breeze of Paris in the middle of a Dior's fashion show, was nothing but crazy and overwhelming.

There were so many people and names to keep up with. Too much to do and so little time. Sometimes, you wondered, the only thing the big names such as Marie Grazia Chiuri did was signing their names in a piece of paper. Y/N wouldn't blame her for it. After all the hell on earth that she, a simple fashion designer under her wings, had to do to survey between the sleepless nights and busy mornings, she'd also die to just sign under sketches and drink decaf coffee in France.

But it was, all the same, the biggest and most exciting opportunity that someone her age and in her industry could have.

That's how Y/N found herself stumbling over classic French carpet, red with silver and gold coming from the very opening doors of the lift to each of the rooms. Another typical expensive Parisian hotel that her monthly payment could afford for one entire day. In her arms, a few of the things she had to manage were almost falling to the ground, and the even younger assistant assigned to her no longer than two weeks before Paris came into the picture could barely keep the things shoved into hers. Said assistant, Jess, laughed at how unfair it was that both of them had to walk around all and visit all of the rooms with all of the very obliviously rude celebrities just so Maria could be happy about her show without actually having to see anyone before the night — her night.

Y/N argued that it was better that way. A opportunity to create her own connections and to be seen, even if it was under Maria's name. Besides, there was a poignant feeling about being the one responsible for the team, even if everyone in the room she'd just entered in were just as fucked up as she was in the end of the month. But, of course, Maria would say “you were chosen for a reason”, and everyone respected how fierce eyes looked around the room and the filming crew instantly stopped talking, turning to give their nicer and younger boss the heads up about how everything was ready.

Another colleague took most of the things in Y/N's arms to herself, setting the girl free to breathe and find herself comfortable for the first time since the beginning of the day.

It was morning, still. But fuck, she was tired.

There was a moment of silence in the room and an instant self conscious feeling about it. Every single pair of eyes were turned to the fashion designer. It took a moment to realize that there was another pair of eyes fixed in her small but strong frame, dusting off the feeling of almost losing arms to a pile of magazines and a small sketch book.

Y/N instantly felt stupid in her own figure, but then blue eyes tore into the younger woman and there was nothing but kindness and expectancy in them.

Rosamund Pike was known for her works. Crazy, misterious, doubtful characters. So long, there was nothing like that irradiating from the way her beautiful smile grew bigger and bigger by the time the american approached her, standing by the large windows of her perfectly organized hotel room. It felt as though she had just arrived there, and her seemingly expensive silk pijamas was just to play pretend, something she judged common for the british actress.