Gwendoline stood in front of her dressing room mirror, fixing the way the mic laid against her forehead. She'd been advised time and time again not to touch it. And normally, she wouldn't, but today it was unusually uncomfortable. She had been uncomfortable ever since she left the house, without at least one of the boys with her. Her underclothes felt suffocatingly tight against her skin. She felt bloated after eating lunch. She felt abnormally queasy up in the silk during rehearsals. She was fidgeting and pacing backstage when normally she found the ease of mind to sit and enjoy the downtime.
Feeling particularly fragile today, are we?
She sighed and sat down, her head in her hands, the heels of her sweaty hands rubbing her eyes. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. You're being ridiculous, everything is just fine, you're just nervous. Anxious. On the brink of tears. She tilted her head back, sniffling away what tears were forming in her eyes. God I wish Nik were here. Gwen hadn't even asked if either of them were coming tonight... Don't be disappointed if they don't show.
A knock at the door caused her to jump. Gwen quickly stood and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself. "Yes?"
"It's me, Miss Christie." Her dresser.
Gwen smiled gently and crossed to the door. "Really, Ania, with these formalities. I've told you, you can call me- Nikolaj?" The man in questioning stood behind the shorter blonde woman, a dopey grin on his face, hands held innocently behind his back.
"I didn't know you were going by Nikolaj now." He teased.
Gwen gave an apologetic smile at Ania, who simply rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't stop pestering the house manager until we brought him back here."
"I'm so sorry, he's a child." She grabbed Nik by his sleeve and pulled him into the room. "Thank you for bringing him, I'll be sure to keep him on a shorter leash next time."
Ania gave a slight nod. "I'm sure Terri would appreciate that." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
The door was closed before Gwen put her back to it, finally looking at the idiot before her. He was dressed quite nicely in a blue button down and light grey slacks, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to show off his disgustingly toned arms. He had even slicked back his hair for the occasion. God, he cleans up well - who are you kidding? He looks this good all the time.
She blinked in surprise as he held out the flowers to her. Bright and colorful, with the faintest of pleasant aromas. She couldn't help but smile at him. Fuck - don't cry, don't cry -
"You didn't think I would come, did you?" He drew her close, wrapping her up in his embrace. He only got a small nod in response. "You know I wouldn't miss this for the world - and on opening night, no less." He kissed her temple.
Letting him take some of her weight, she leaned heavily into him. "I'm glad you're here." She truly thought he'd avoid her all day, the tension he was exuding earlier was becoming worrisome.
"I have something else for you," his voice dipped lower. "But I have to give it to you now before I go."
Her brows raised curiously, ghosting her lips along the lobe of his ear. "And what might that be?"
His lips attacked hers with such passion and ferocity her knees nearly buckled, her arms immediately looping around his neck. Blindly, he set the flowers aside and led them to the counter where her street clothes and makeup currently were. A surprised squeak leapt from her throat as something prodded sharply into her ass cheek. She quickly reached behind her and pulled away the offending item - Pat McGrath lipstick, classic.
