Delicate - Emily Blunt x Reader

21 - this is me trying

"And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound."
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You wake up on the couch next to Louis. His arm is wrapped around you, rubbing your back in slow and gentle circles. He has the television turned on but with the volume off, his eyes glued to the screen until he looks down at you.

"Good morning," he smiles, a crooked smile. Half of his face is still swollen, maybe even worse than yesterday.

"Good morning," you snuggle deeper into his side, and he readjusts the blanket around you. Your eyes find the screen, the gossip channel. "I feel like something terrible happens every time we watch this."

Louis nods, "You're not wrong. But it's just so good."

You smile. He's right. The gossip channel has always been your favorite, and how could anything get worse than it is now?

Now that you're awake, Louis turns the audio on.

"We just keep seeing these faces more and more, don't we, Rayna?" Lauren looks up from her notecards, reading the scripted transition to the next segment.

"That's right, Lauren," Rayna looks over to her co-host, "The last we heard was that there is another suspected romance on the set of Emily Blunt and Nolan Eldridge's new movie. In our next segment, we're gonna try to find out who Emily's second potential love interest."

The screen flashes to the gooey cheese and perfectly seasoned crust of a Papa John's pizza. You reach over Louis's lap and grab the remote, changing the channel to a show starring Guy Fieri. Perfect, nothing can go wrong with this.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket. A text illuminates your lock screen:

Hey, are you home?

Who is this?

Emily. I'm in the neighborhood.

In that case, no.

Come on, Y/N. We really need to talk.

I don't think there's anything to talk about.

Emily leaves you on read, and you feel a bit of satisfaction for being able to stand your ground against her.

Until there's a knock at your door.

You sigh as loud as you can, pushing yourself up from the couch beside Louis. The cold hardwood floors hit your bare feet, sending chills through your veins like rivers of ice.

You open the door a crack, just enough to see who's standing on the other side. Even though you know it's Emily.

She stands there, her arms wrapped around her torso. No makeup on. The bruises under her eyes look like a child's watercolor painting.

You shut the door and press your back up against it. There is nothing Emily can say to make anything better. And you're afraid that anything you say is just going to escalate the situation.

There's a heavy feeling at the pit of your stomach, though. It tells you that your job is to help Emily.

Was to help Emily.

Because you got tied up with her relationship, you'll never get to help anyone ever again.

But that wasn't Emily's fault. Nothing that has happened has ever been her fault.

You spin around and open the door back up, all the way this time, and step aside to let Emily in.

The look on her face is pure relief, her eyes welling up with tears and a smile taking over her face.

At the sight of the two of you, Louis dismisses himself to his room, flashing Emily a friendly smile through his busted lip.

You lean against the back of the couch, and Emily paces in the space in front of you, chewing at her nails and avoiding all eye contact with you. She doesn't speak for a minute, as if she's trying to find the words.

"Alisa called me this morning," Emily finally says.

Your mind searches for any possible Alisas that you know before it lands on the kind woman from the set. Alisa, the assistant director.

"The press is releasing a story about you, Y/N," Emily continues.

Your heart stops, and your eyes freeze on Emily who still hasn't found the courage to look up at you.

"There's nothing she can do to stop it. It'll be in the headlines of magazines and articles tomorrow morning. I thought you deserved to know," Emily finally looks up at you.

You fall over the back of the couch, landing on the knitted blanket you and Louis fell asleep with last time, with your long legs still dangling over the back.

"Y/N," Emily walks over and sits on the couch beside you, angling her body to face you.

You snap your head over to the side, "What do we do?"

"We?" Emily asks.

"Well, they certainly aren't giving me my own headline. My name is going to be next to yours, Emily. To the editors, there is no me. We have to be the we that they're saying we are," you're surprised at your own words as they leave your mouth. Surprised that you've found it in you to accept Emily after everything she did to you. After she said that spending the night with you was a mistake.

Emily practically laughs in relief.

You sit up to face her, taking her hands into yours. "Em, this isn't going to look good for you, love."

She swallows, deep down knowing the truth to your words, "It's not about me."

"Did you not hear a word I just said? It's all about you. They could give two shits about me. It's you they care about. It's always been you."

Emily pulls you closer to her, throwing her arms over your shoulders. You place your hands gently around her waist, trying not to wince as she leans into a sore spot on your ribs. "I'm sorry for everything, Y/N. The things I said to you were terrible. If I could take them back I would. What will it take for you to forgive me?"

You smile over Emily's shoulder and hold her tighter, "Consider it done."

Emily lets go of her hold on you and plants a quick kiss on your cheek, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You're just extremely difficult to hate," you laugh, "Trust me, I've tried."

"Okay, so what's our plan?" Emily says as she wipes a tear from the outside corner of her eye.

You like the way she says our, fully acknowledging your existence together and how natural it sounds. "If they're writing about us being in love, it's going to make you look really bad, Em. You're supposed to be in a relationship with Hollywood dream boy, Nolan Eldridge. People take one look at him and know that they want to take his side."

Emily collapses back onto the armrest. "How is that fair? He's the one who cheated first."

"Then we need to somehow let them know that."

Emily pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials a number that you can't see, "Dwayne, what are your thoughts on throwing a party tonight?"

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"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you."