Nanowrimo 2020 Day 7 - Another Day 6 Favorite Bit (Patreon)

I didn't add any new words today, since I figured I needed a rest day after the nonsense I pulled last night. But I didn't want to leave y'all without any new Match.God content, so here's another favorite bit from yesterday's writing!

“Signora, please! Let me get the door!”

A tittering laugh filled the grand entrance, followed by a deep, melodious voice. “Don’t be silly, darling. I’m perfectly capable of opening my own door.”

If Lindiwe was tall, the woman that stepped through the door was a giant. She stood head and shoulders above Giotto, smiling down at him pleasantly with crimson lips as she handed him her coat. Her skin was a sun-kissed olive tone that betrayed no distinct origin. Brown hair fell down her back in waves, and red-brown eyes glittered with a playfulness that Hannah was fairly certain male writers would call coy.

Though Hannah was never one to call anyone sexy, this woman exuded sexuality as if she invented it. She was gorgeous, the type that captured attention everywhere she went. Hannah immediately felt the urge to commit her personage to paper. It was almost frightening how strong the compulsion was.

As if sensing the eyes on her, the women turned her gaze on Hannah, smiling radiantly. “Hello there. You must be Ha-yun.”

“Hannah,” Hannah corrected automatically. “And you must be the matchmaker.”

The woman’s smile didn’t fall. “I am. It’s so good to finally meet you, kitten. Do you know where the others are, I’d like to greet them as well.”

“Don’t know,” Hannah said bruskly, bristling at being called ‘kitten’. Who called people that anymore? Once she was over the initial spell, Hannah felt nothing but uncomfortable about this woman’s presence.

“I believe they are out by the pool, Mistress,” Giotto said dutifully.

The matchmaker continued to smile. “They have good taste, then. I do love that pool. Hannah, dear, would you come down and join us?”

Hannah hesitated, hand gripping the railing tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Everything about this woman filled her with both a desire to please and an impulse to run away. It wasn’t dissimilar to the repulsion that being around Grandmother caused, and yet it was entirely alien to any other feeling Hannah had ever experienced.

In the end, she walked stiffly down the stairs, cardigan sweater pulled tightly around herself. She kept her eyes squarely on the floor as she trailed behind Giotto and the matchmaker. As soon as she stepped out onto the veranda, she bolted down the stairs towards the others lounging around the pool.

“Hannah?” Lindiwe asked, taking off her sunglasses when she noticed Hannah approaching. “What’s going on?”

Before Hannah could say anything – though she was fairly certain the barely-contained panic on her face said enough – the matchmaker strode forward and leaned against the veranda railing.

“Hello, sweethearts,” she crooned. “I hope you’re having a wonderful time.”

Clara squeaked out a barely contained ‘oh my god,’ something echoed by a suddenly breathless Lindiwe. Hannah watched in something bordering on horror as the other girls fell under the same charm that she had when the matchmaker first walked through the door. Even mild-mannered Lamia was staring wide-eyed and pink-cheeked at the woman on the veranda.

No, Hannah reasoned, her reaction had been fundamentally different from what she was seeing in her friends. While Hannah could easily admit that the matchmaker was a beautiful woman, she was thinking purely in terms of aesthetics, similar in the way one could admit a sunset or the Sistine Chapel was beautiful.

The others were clearly falling in love with the matchmaker at first sight. They thought she was beautiful in a way that inspired attraction and desire. Hannah understood it in the same vague way she could understand calculus, but it was a sensation she was ultimately unfamiliar with.

“You’re the matchmaker?” Vanessa asked, her tone of surprise free of the breathlessness of the others. Hannah felt a bit relieved. At least one other person had a level head here.

“I am indeed,” the woman said. “You may call me la Signora di Amore. It’s a pleasure to meet you all in the flesh.”

Hannah didn’t know a lot of Italian, but everyone knew that ‘amore’ meant ‘love’. Anyone who watched classic Disney movies knew that much. So…was Hannah wrong or was this woman calling herself ‘the lady of love?’ That seemed both extraordinarily fishy and disgustingly cheesy.

“Now, while I’d love to lounge around with you girls for hours on end, I’m afraid I have far too much work yet to do before tomorrow night,” la Signora di Amore said with a dramatic sigh. “I will leave you to your tanning. Remember to generously reapply sunscreen every two to three hours!”

She turned, striding back towards the house and, if Hannah was right, to her locked office. No! If she locked herself in there, Hannah would never get the chance to try and talk her way out of this situation.

“Wait! Miss Amore!” Hannah shouted after her, bolting towards the veranda steps so fast she nearly skidded out on a stray pebble.

“I’m sorry, kitten, but I’m afraid I have no time to wait!” la Signora di Amore called dismissively over her shoulder.

“But – !”

“Everything has to be perfect for tomorrow night,” la Signora insisted. “I will accept nothing less! Now, if you’ll excuse me!”

“Signora!”

The office door slammed in Hannah’s face, the sound echoing through the house. Hannah could do nothing but stare at the dark wood, tears blurring the edges of her vision. She could do nothing but feel her throat tighten as those tears spilled over. She could do nothing but collapse to the ground, pathetically pounding her fists against the door as she wailed.

Nothing.

Stupid.

She could do nothing.

Useless.

Absolutely…nothing.

Stupid, useless girl.