“The Invisible String” (Falling for Donna Beneviento)- Chapter 2
The head of House Beneviento covers your hand with hers, instinctively making you look at her for a split second from the corner of your eye, before darting your gaze back to the doll on the desk. You pray the glance was more subtle than it felt, you’re not even sure if it was as quick as you imagined it for everything suddenly feels off, as if something uncanny was bleeding into reality. Whatever surrealism you speak of you don’t see, only feel as Donna’s contact continues to linger over your hand, making your anxiety start to rise by the second.
Seconds feel like eons as Donna stays frozen in place, her veil making it impossible to interpret what she could possibly be feeling or thinking.
You follow her lead by trying to keep a neutral face, staying silent as your mind begins to race. To say you were overthinker would be an understatement, you try unpacking everything from the gesture’s meaning to its sudden appearance, and whether or not this was all just a cruel dream. You’ve had daydreams similar to this situation but none that ever felt like this, none that ever felt so…..engulfing.
You feel that flutter in your heart, a flutter from the word you desperately try to avoid day in and day out whenever Donna crossed your mind, hope. You immediately fight back any hope of the woman ever returning your feelings, even the smallest semblance of it. A woman as distinguished as Donna Beneviento would surely never fall for a common painter…..would she? Donna had power, she had wealth, she had talent and passion of the likes you’ve never seen before….she could have anyone she wanted…so why do you find it difficult to come up a platonic explanation for her action right now?
Regardless of the reason, you feel your skin burn under her gentle touch. Even the simple gesture has Donna written all over it; deliberate but not hostile, soft but not limp. You also can’t help but notice how smooth her hand feels against yours, you wonder if it’s the result of an extravagant lotion or if she’s simply this soft.
The ticking from the old clock fills the air as neither of you react.
You decide it best to hide your internal distress, well at least as best as you can. You keep your face as blank as possible as you gently lower your paintbrush down. You stare down at the small doll, assuming it best to allow her the time to properly explain herself, away from the pressure of your gaze. You try your best to focus on how anxious she must also be right now as communication had never come easy for Donna.
Her voice almost doesn’t sound real as you sit in a dream like daze.
“I…what I’m about to say does not put you at risk, Y/N.”
The clock’s sounds are drowned out by your heart beating through your ears, your gaze stays on the unfinished doll.
Despite her concealed face, she turns her head away from you as she continues, her hand never leaving yours. She takes a small pause before continuing.
“I harbor feelings for you, Y/N. But I chose not to tell you for several reasons.”
Your mask instantly falters the second you hear the confession, eyes widening in disbelief and shock. You jerk your head towards her, she catches your incredulous expression from the corner of her eye, still not meeting your gaze. Something begins to flood your system, excitement? Fear? Hope? You’re not entirely sure but it feels as if each of your senses have awakened to an extreme.
“For one, I feared you would never return my feelings...” She ends with a whisper.
The statement makes something in you snap.
“But I do!” You immediately counter, louder than you intended, your tone earnest with a hint of desperation. You mentally chastise yourself for how dramatic the response must have come off.
The raise of your voice finally makes her look at you as she isn’t used to it. Once again, you have no facial indictors to tell you how she’s taken the response. But you realize her hand feels warmer…that must be a good sign, right?
You try to hold back as you feel months of repressed emotions try to take control of your tongue. The last thing you want to do is overwhelm or embarrass her.
“I care deeply for you, mistress…you don’t have to worry about that.” You say softly while instinctively leaning closer to her.
The dollmaker’s face is hidden but you assume she must be taken aback by her feelings being returned; you know you are. She silently processes your words until you suddenly notice her start to mirror your distance, whether by instinct or by choice you can’t tell.
Time starts to melt away as the image of Donna leaning towards you makes you both want to run away and never look away. You use every fibre of courage you have to keep going, you’re eventually close enough to smell the smallest hint of a floral scent, which is strange since normally Donna doesn’t wear perfume.
You’re both just a breath away…when suddenly Donna pulls back at the last second, removing her hand in the process, you instantly miss the contact. At first you wonder if you’ve been too bold, assuming too much but she quickly explains herself.
“No. You don’t understand, I’m not what you think. This veil hides my true nature….and it is unworthy of you. Unworthy of what you should have.” She says with sadness in her voice, tightly holding her hands to her chest while shaking her head. Even with the veil you notice the contempt behind her words, contempt clearly directed towards herself.
You start to frown the more you process her statement.
You feel a sting in your heart as you realize something. The rumours of Donna Beneviento having a monstrous disposition were more than just rumours, for her they actually held some weight. Whether it was an event, a person, or the entirety of her life leading up to this moment- she truly believed she was unworthy of experiencing one of the largest aspects of life, love.
Even if every rumour about her is true you don’t care, for you’ve fallen for the woman with the veil, regardless of what lies beneath it. Donna Beneviento isn’t a scary story, or a title to you but a real woman whom you’ve grown incredibly fond of. You lightly shake your head as you refuse to accept her words.
“You’re wrong. Even if you are headless under there-“
You notice her tilt her head in response to the comment but not the small smile that also emerges on her face, appreciating how you always seem balance out her melancholic nature.
“It won’t matter to me because…I already think you’re beautiful, Don-mistress.” You quickly correct yourself, still unsure if she’d be comfortable with you referring to her by her first name.
Once again, you miss the warm expression on her face as she addresses your self-correction.
“You’re more than welcome to call me Donna, Y/N. I believe we’re past the point of titles…..”
She looks away as she finishes her sentence, “…I think I’d like hearing you call me Donna.”
For once her veil can’t hide the flustered tone in her voice, you imagine her hands must also be getting warmer again. Unfortunately, Donna is not the only one effected by her confession, your own cheeks now wear a slightly pink colour to them.
But before you can answer her, you notice her hands slowly reaching towards her veil, fingers trembling. The room feels off kilter as you hear the courage in her voice.
“I truly don’t want to lie to you, Y/N. I want you to decide for yourself if this is what you really want….if I’m what you really want.”
You almost try to stop her, not for your sake but to make sure if this is really something she wants to do but you’re too late. Her voice lowers as she finally lifts her veil up.
“…I’ll understand if you never want to come back.”
And just like that, you’re finally face-to-face with Donna Beneviento.
A heavy silence follows as you take in her bare state, completely engrossed by how human and occult she is all at once.
The dollmaker shrinks under your gaze, anxiously rubbing her hands together as she looks at the floor.
At first your eyes can’t help but fall on the mutation over the side of her face. Her right eye is covered with small mounds as visible veins sprout from them; an image akin to eldritch horrors. You now understand how important her veil is to her, how much courage and trust it took for her to show you the flesh that laid beneath it. Anyone else would have run by now, screaming towards the hills of how Mistress Beneviento is as monstrous as the rumours spoke of but not you, for even now- she is anything but monstrous to you.
You take a step closer as you process the rest of her features, your hands moving by themselves as you gently hold her face to study them. The gesture makes her quietly gasp but she doesn’t pull away, she instead focuses on fighting back a blush as she fails to avoid your heavy gaze. You’ve never seen such alabaster skin, it almost glows under the light. But what stands out the most is how her dark hair and eye contrast against it. Without thinking, you lightly push a strand of hair away from her face, lightly grazing her soft skin. Every instinct within Donna is screaming for her to run away while also wishing the moment will never end, no one has ever treated her with such tenderness.
The air surrounding you both feels warmer as you stand just a breath away.
Your eyes finally fall onto the woman’s plush lips, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re as a soft as they look. You look at the woman in complete awe as you process the full picture of the woman you’ve fallen for and as you predicted, you love her all the same, perhaps more.
You feel yourself lean in closer and she mirrors your movement. Neither of you can hear the grandfather clock anymore as you become lost within your personal world.
