[Matentines] Blind Date

A few nuns from the church had decided to organize a blind-date. After paying the entrance fee to cover their drinks, everyone would get a number at the door associated with a random table number, matching them to another bun. Every 20 minutes, one of the nuns would ring a soft chime. At that time, any buns could go to be reassigned new numbers and find new tables to chat with. Those who wished to continue their conversations could continue or, as had often been the case last year, they could slip away and leave their table open for another matched pair to take.

Mary was recruited to help with the decorations after making the mistake of showing off one of the lace doilies she’d made, and when she came to drop them off the group begged her to stay and help decorate. So, she’d ended up doing the table settings. Though they varied in color and style, when Mary was done each table bore one of her doilies, several candles, and a Matentines-themed floral centerpiece.

Standing beside the bar with a glass of water in her hand, Mary surveyed their work. The room was beautifully intimate, the overhead lights turned as low as they could be for safety with much of the light coming from the candles on each table.

And Mary felt horribly out of place with her pale coloring. The pale, creamy brown of her habit and mantilla were a lovely match for pale hair and golden features, but they were jarring against the dark red and candlelight. Besides—her perpetual snowflakes sometimes made for unpleasantly damp circumstances in warmer settings such as this.

Setting her half-finished water aside on a nearby tray, Mary turned toward the door. She intended to leave, but before she could take a step Satin waltzed up to her.

“Mary, dear,” Satin said, her tone playful as she held out a table card. “I have a table just for you.~”

“Oh, thank you very much for thinking of me, but I wasn’t planning to stay.”

Mary raised her hands to wave off the invitation, but Satin slid it into her hands anyway.

“You’ve been working hard on this. Enjoy it.” Winking, Satin gently nudged her in the direction of her table. “Besides, our early reservations are an odd number and everyone else has disappeared.”

“Alright, alright,” Mary said, giving Satin a small smile. “Thank you, Satin.”

Satin grinned, going back to organizing the reservations as Mary took her seat, fiddling with the edge of the doily and inspecting it for mistakes in the stitching while she waited to see what fate Satin would assign her.

With her position of Mother Superior, it was no great surprise when Åndrya offered to help to oversee the event; but when the true preparations had begun, she chose instead to take a more passive watch, keeping to the background and helping with placements whenever she was needed. After all, though she quite enjoyed the position of mother hen, she knew her convent ladies were more than capable of handling the proceedings without her nitpicking every little thing.

What she didn’t expect, however, was the slip of paper that now nestled betwixt her fingers; a table number given to her by Satin, who with a mischievous glint in her eye, had gently eased the paper her way. “It simply wouldn’t do to have you sit out,” she had prompted, closing Åndrya’s fingers around the parchment, “I know many a girl here who would just love to have the chance to get to know you better, Mother.”

And so here she stood, gathering the courage in her heart before finally glancing down at her table number; 6. A quick glance upwards again brought the table into view, and the lovely nun she’d had her eye on all evening; the soft golden light and gentle fall of snow that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

Tucking the piece of paper into her top, she pulled herself from the shadows and prowled to the table in question, crossing the marble floor with a steady rhythm of snaps from her heels.

“Good evening and blessings to you,” She purred, rounding the table from behind Mary, leaning heavily on the back of chair opposite her. “Mary, isn’t it? It would seem the fates have decided that you and I should spend some time together tonight. May I sit~?”

Mary’s head jerked up at the voice, gold eyes widening as she realized who Satin had paired her with. She surged to her feet, nearly knocking the table over in her haste, and offered Åndrya a hand to shake.

“O-of course!” she said, stumbling over her words in her haste to answer. “Yes, I’m Mary. And you’re Åndrya, right? It’s good to finally meet you properly.”

Reclaiming her seat, Mary gestured toward the opposite at the same time, inviting the other succubun to join her. Excitement rapidly overcame her initial surprise. She didn’t remember exchanging much more than a wave with Åndrya, but the air of command surrounding her was magnetic.

“How are you? Hopefully all this—” Mary made a vague gesture with her hand, encompassing the entire room. “—Hasn’t been too taxing?”

Åndrya couldn’t help but smile warmly at Mary’s blunders, finding the younger infinitely more endearing than she had in simple passing. She took Mary’s hand softly, pressing a kiss to the back of it, before settling comfortably in the plush chair that only barely accommodated her wide hips.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Her words were honeyed as she made herself comfortable, folding her hands beneath her chin. “And admittedly, I am feeling much more elated than I thought I would be. I had a mind to slip away back to the convent when the event had begun, but this is far preferable than a solitary evening with my menace of a furdin for company.”

One of the event coordinators slipped up to their table, offering a tray of wine and simple treats, mostly chocolates, of which Åndrya selected a small glass of red and a few chocolate covered raspberries. Mary hesitated a moment longer, ultimately settling for a sparkling white wine and a couple of truffles.

“And you, my dear? Perhaps I was mistaken when I thought you were simply volunteering for set-up? I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be participating, as well... though I will say I am quite pleasantly surprised.”

“I was, but…Satin apparently had other ideas for both of us. I wasn’t even really supposed to help with setup, truthfully. I only meant to drop off my doilies, but someone asked me to lend a hand carrying something and I never managed to escape again.” Mary’s demeanor thawed rapidly, having a shared topic so soon making her words flow easier. “You mentioned a furdin?  I have one, too. Her name is Barbie, and she’s the prissiest princess I’ve ever met. I’m sure when I go back to my room she will be sitting by the door with her nose high in the air and make sure I know how terribly inconvenienced she’s been by my disappearance.”

Mary shook her head, chuckling softly before she took a sip of her wine. Despite her less-than-perfect review, her affection for the creature was clear in her expression.

“I do indeed! His name is Ross; and I promise you, there’s not a single thought inside that voidal mass.” Åndrya joined in with the quiet laughter, shifting to a more comfortable position as she sipped her wine, enjoying the simple, joyous moment with Mary.

A quick glance around the room showed the other tables to be a testament to the event’s overall success; there was laughter in the air, quiet and boisterous chatter alike, and some tables already lay suspiciously vacant as their occupants had likely found their matches quite quickly. The sight of it all brought a comfort to the Mother Superior, but something else stirred within her heart... and lower, as well.

“So...” She began again, once more focusing her gaze on Mary sitting across from her, eyes narrowing a degree. “Though Satin has seen fit to match us together, it begs the question; are you looking for someone, dear Mary? Whether for Matentines or a longer commitment, it does not matter which at the moment... if you are not, I am sure I can come up with an excuse for the both of us to sneak away. But if you are...”

She took another sip of her wine, draining the rest of her glass before setting it on the table between them and picking up a raspberry, pressing it to her lips.

“I have heard that this fruit in particular is quite lovely when it comes to stoking one’s libido and promoting sexual health... perhaps you’d like to partake with me?”

For a moment, all Mary could do was stare at Åndrya—mouth agape. Heat crept through her as she processed both the proposition and the woman who’d made it. It took her several moments to recompose herself, drawing several deep breaths and crossing her legs under the table. Yet, as the nun recovered herself, her countenance took on a whisper of the same wicked confidence Åndrya wore like a cloak.

Taking another long sip of her wine, Mary propped her chin on her hand. Without removing her eyes from away Åndrya, Mary reached across the table, stole one of the chocolate raspberries, and slid it between her lips. Only once she finished her stolen treat did she answer.

“I wouldn’t dream of turning down a gift from the demons themselves,” she said, words slower and more sure. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

Åndrya’s once-gentle smile turned into something ever-so-slightly dark, watching Mary’s movements closely like a predator might watch their prey. But it became quickly apparent that Mary was not a cowering mouse to be cornered; no, it would seem the charming little ivory nun had some fire beneath her cute little snowflakes, after all.

“Oh, nothing too heinous, of course,” She mused, sliding the berry past her lips until it disappeared along with the tip of her finger, “The whole point of the event is to get to know your partner, is it not? But is this blind date not set up with the intention of something far more entertaining in mind?”

Carefully, she reached across the table to take Mary’s hand, pressing a kiss to each of her fingertips in turn.

“I’ve had my eye on you for some time, Mary. I find you quite lovely, and your devotions ring sweetly in these halls. But I wonder if your voice might ring just as sweet in mine.”

Mary let Åndrya keep her hand, using the free one to pick up a truffle and hold it out for her companion and arching one snowy eyebrow in question.

“We can most certainly find out,” Mary said, her smile turned mischievous. “I’m sure you’d find me an…enthusiastic student, Mother Åndrya. That is, if even half of the whispers I’ve heard about you are true.”

“Oh, there are whispers, are there?” Åndrya chuckled, leaning forward to take the truffle in her mouth. “My, my; perhaps I have not been as careful and private as I ought to have been. Very well...”

Åndrya stood, keeping a careful hold on Mary’s hand as she did so, helping her up in turn. She rounded the table and pulled Mary in close to her, cupping her cheek with her free hand.

“We shall discuss barriers, comforts and the like when we find ourselves in some manner of privacy, hmm? But for now, let us check in with our dearest Satin and give her the grace of knowing two more of her participants have found their match, thanks to her.”

She offered Mary another smile then, before tipping her chin up for a quick, chaste kiss. No matter how brief, that one kiss from Åndrya was enough to steal Mary’s breath.

“I’d like that,” she murmured, long white lashes fluttering.

Her gold eyes slid to one side, fixed on something—or someone—on the other side of the room. When she finally looked away, Mary looped her arms over Åndrya’s shoulders and leaned close, speaking softly against her ear.

“I don’t think we need to say anything to Satin though…We’ve gained a rather rose-colored audience, and she looks mighty pleased with herself.”

“Let them look and feel envy in their hearts,” she whispered against Mary’s lips, stealing another kiss before finally giving the lady some air. “I, for one, am quite looking forward to seeing where our evening will take us. I plan on learning all I can about you, Mary; every little intimate detail, every sin...”

“Come, let us hear your deepest confessions.”