𝕰𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 (Rosamund Pike)

Falling in love in the cruelest way (Rosamund Pike x reader)

            It's simply not fair that she's not around. But that's also the reason why you realize something that can change everything, forever.

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There were eyes fixed in the woman's figure, looking tipsily at Rosamund seated opposite from her in the cosiness of the two bedroom apartment. There was nothing but graceful candle lights burning, making the table between the two bodies almost inexistent.

The younger of them laughed at a face the actress pulled, just as her hands reached out to take Y/N's that rested on top of the table.  It was probably their second date, but exchanging messages and midnight calls that developed into five months of knowing each other made things a lot more intimate, a lot more intense. It was one of the (strange) perks of long distance relationships, or so they thought.

— It's so strange how much you can surprise me  everyday. — Rosamund said, intertwining their fingers a bit. — Like I don't know you at all.

— I guess that living in London makes you too far from the craziness I can evoke.

There was a smirk from the blonde, but she felt it burning inside of her heart – the fatality they were in. Five months, two dates, countless nights lost oceans apart. She did, in fact, missed the real Y/N, didn't she?

The lively discussions, quirky remarks, indomitable charms. She knew it all. But seeing it, living it, was a whole other story. One she hoped she could experience.

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Slender fingers brushed against the nape of Y/N's neck, giving a tingling sensation that flowed though her body as fast as a chill could go. The blinds were up, the sunlit room warming up flushed bodies, tangled legs and soft breaths dancing against one another.

Rosamund laid there, in the middle of New York, in the woman's bed as if the plane she had to take was going to wait. She moved, stared at the bedside table and then at her phone, but blueish eyes turned back to admire the sleepy eyes fixed on her.

— Wish I could stay a little longer. — she admitted in short breaths, left hand cupping Y/N's cheek. — I wish Prague wasn't that far. I wish you could come.

There was a sudden sadness in those eyes as Y/N's lips fell into a frown. The younger of them barely remembered the future of this confusing relationship as Saturday rolled around into Sunday, and Sunday into the not at all awaited day of saying goodbye to Rosamund again.

— Let's just...— Y/N choked on her own saliva as her hand touched the one pressed against her face. — I want to look at you for a little longer.

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The heartache, the tears. It all came crashing down exactly five days and two hours after.

The time difference between New York and Prague only increased by one hour, but that meant one hour less.

Rosamund's new project was already well and thriving, but that also means less. Less of her.

The only thing Y/N could thing of was how much more of the less she could take. And it turned out to be not much at all.

She could deal with liking someone for five months and missing them for a bit. Late night calls would do it, and their kiss when they were back would be enough.

But she definitely couldn't deal with the feeling bubbling inside of her chest everytime that beautiful kissable face would pop up in their facetime sessions, almost everyday around her midnight, while Rosie could be around six in the morning covered in fake dust, tired and sleepless eyes. More often then not she would turn the phone around so Y/N could see the extremely beautiful locations they were shooting in, and even introduce her to castmates. It was fun, until it wasn't. Hanging up was the hardest, and the only way Y/N could actually do it was falling asleep, leaving Rosamund to turn the call off with a sweet "goodnight" and too many feelings left unsaid. She knew better than anyone else that it was complicated, and that as time went by, the harder it became. For her, for Y/N and for anything else between.