One At A Time

*Gwendoline Christie*

#23: My Protective Girl

*Gwendoline’s POV* 

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The hum of hair dryers and the soft patter of makeup brushes against my skin should have been comforting, a routine that I’d grown used to over the years. But today, it felt suffocating. I sat rigid in the chair, the flurry of activity around me only a blur.

I couldn’t stop thinking about *her*. About Y/N.

A tornado warning had been issued in her area earlier in the day. While she’d reassured me that everything was fine, that she would go to the basement if things escalated, I could hear the underlying tension in her voice. Tornadoes were not something to be taken lightly, and being hundreds of miles away from her made me feel powerless. All I could do was worry.

“Gwen, you’ve gone quiet on me,” Clara, my makeup artist, spoke softly, pausing her work as she studied my face. “You okay?”

I blinked and attempted a smile, but it was weak. “Just thinking.”

Clara narrowed her eyes slightly, already knowing what was on my mind. “It’s about Y/N, isn’t it?”

I sighed, letting my shoulders drop a little. “Yes. She’s in the middle of a tornado warning, and I hate that I’m not there with her. I’ve tried to get her to check in with me, but the storm seems to be getting worse, and now I haven’t heard from her in a while.”

“She’ll be okay,” Clara reassured, her voice kind as she resumed applying makeup. “She knows what to do, and you’ve checked in plenty. But I understand—you’re worried. I’d be the same.”

I nodded, though her words didn’t stop the uneasy churning in my stomach. Y/N and I had been together for a while, and over time, I’d grown more protective of her. She was independent, brave, and could handle herself, but something about this storm—a force of nature we couldn’t control—triggered every instinct in me to shield her, to make sure she was safe.

My phone buzzed on the vanity in front of me, and I grabbed it immediately, my heart skipping a beat. It was a text from Y/N.

**Y/N:** “The rain’s heavy, but I’m okay so far. Don’t worry too much about me, love. ❤️”

I exhaled, my thumb quickly moving to respond.

**Me:** “You know I’m going to worry. Please promise me you’ll go to the basement if it gets bad. I don’t care if it’s ‘just rain.’ Stay safe.”

I hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for those three little dots to show up, indicating she was typing back. But the dots never came. I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling the worry creeping back in. I needed to hear her voice, to know she was okay.

“Gwen, we’re almost finished,” Clara said, stepping back to give me a final once-over. “You’ve got about twenty minutes before your interview.”

I nodded, but my thoughts were only half with her. The sooner I finished this, the sooner I could call Y/N. The tightness in my chest wouldn’t go away until I knew for sure she was alright.

During the interview, I smiled, answered questions, and performed my usual routine, but internally, my mind was miles away, in the storm with her. I kept glancing at my phone between takes, but there were no new messages, no calls. The longer it went on, the more my nerves frayed.

When the interview finally wrapped, I slipped away from the cameras as quickly as I could, my phone in hand. I dialed Y/N’s number, my heart thudding against my ribs as the line rang and rang… and rang. No answer.