Delicate - Emily Blunt x Reader

1 - Enchanted

"I'll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you."
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You walk into the dressing room feeling a whole mix of emotions. There she is, just like they promised you.

You approach her quickly, as you know time is a precious thing in the movie industry. Unzipping a bag and adding a few finishing touches of blush to her cheeks, you try to distract yourself from the fact that Emily Blunt is sitting right in front of you. That you were the one assigned as her personal hair and makeup artist. You find it impossible to pretend that she's anyone else no matter how hard you try.

You tilt her chin up gently to angle her face towards you in order to touch up the sharp outline around her eyes. When she opens her eyes, you find that they're a lot bluer than you remember. You hate yourself for forgetting that about her.

"Hey, you look familiar," she smiles at you slightly, "Have you worked on a set with me before?"

You blush, thinking she sees right through your intentions of applying for this movie and the last just because you saw her name on the cover. "Yes, I believe so." You decide to try and play it cool, though nothing about being this close to her feels cool at all.

The way she looks at you is more comforting than you could have ever imagined. It's as if she sees you as a true human being, not just a nobody doing her makeup for the day.

"Can I ask you your name?" She says it like a name is an intimate piece of information. Like she's asking you to reveal a deep secret. Like she cares what the answer is going to be.

"Y/N," you reply.

"Well, it's a pleasure to be officially introduced, Y/N," Emily smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly in the corners.

You smile in return, unsure if you'll ever be able to stop. Actors usually don't care to know your name and when they do it's usually to complain about something you've done.

"Okay," you say to break the tension that you're sure you're the only one who feels it. You turn Emily's chair towards the vanity mirror. "What do you think?"

"You're the makeup artist. You tell me." Emily replies. You realize that she's not looking at her own reflection but yours.

You hesitate. "You look just marvelous." You cringe at your own words. Sure, there is far worse you could've said. But there's also much better.

A director's assistant appears in the doorway of the dressing room. "Miss Blunt, we're running a few tests before the shoot. Are you ready?"

"Of course," Emily stands up. She turns to you and squeezes your shoulder before leaving the dressing room. "Thank you, Y/N."

You follow far enough behind Emily and the assistant out to the set to not be noticed, bringing a small bag with you. This is your least favorite part of the job. Touch-ups between takes are dreadful and terribly stressful. You know how important it is to keep the makeup consistent but also feel so rushed to make sure it's perfect, as the directors never waste a second of time between takes.

You watch as Emily approaches her co-star Nolan Eldridge. He engulfs her in an awkward hug, and you realize that this must be their first meeting.

You don't know much about Nolan. He's tall and handsome, a five-star collegiate football player before he kickstarted his acting career. He's been married a few times to women with smaller names than Emily. He's always seen walking the red carpet of a movie premiere with a new woman, even when he is married. You're pretty sure he recently filed a divorce, meaning he'll probably be filing a new marriage soon too.

Across the room, you find another familiar face. Louis. You don't know his last name, but he's worked on the past couple movies that you have. He dreams of writing movies of his own, but for now he's practically the errand boy.

"Y/N!" He whisper-yells, making his way towards you. "I didn't know you were working on this movie."

You smile and shrug.

He seems to follow your line of sight to Emily. "Of course, you are." Louis claps you on the shoulder. He's one of the few people who know about your Emily Blunt crush. It's not that you ever came out and explicitly told him. Louis is just really good at connecting dots. He's the kind of guy that reveals the end of the movie within the first ten minutes of watching. He's gonna be a great screenwriter one day.

"Shut up," you mutter through clenched teeth.

"Listen, Y/N, I admire your commitment to the bit, but she doesn't even know your name."

"Actually..." you can't help but smile at the memory in the dressing room resurfacing in your mind.

"Oh my gosh! She wants you!" Louis says sarcastically and also a little too loud. He gets judgmental glances from other staff member around you. You laugh. Unlike you, Louis is the last person to care what other people think.

"So what's it even about?" You ask Louis, pointing to the script in his hand.

"Just your classic enemies-to-lovers office romance," he shakes his head disapprovingly as if to say that he has better stuff written from middle school, "She's his secretary, sleeps with him for a promotion, and then actually ends up falling for him."

You nod. "So do they actually..."

"No," Louis say, disappointed. "But it is very raunchy. The director says it's the kind of comedy people die for nowadays."

You nod again, still watching Emily prepare herself for the scene. She straightens her dark red blazer and matching pencil skirt and twirls a blonde curl around her finger.

"Is it weird? Watching the love of your life fall in love with someone new all of the time?" Louis says.

You know he's joking, but you can't help but think about the truth there is to the answer to his question. You wonder if it's worth it, being close to Emily knowing that you'll never be as close as you can only dream of being.

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" Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you."