The Butter And The Beast

3

Bathing was work. Washing her hair was work. Drying it.. Oh God, don't mention. Everything seemed to be work to Anita. Even something as simple as lifting up the spoon to her mouth while eating could be very much compared to trying to lift three elephants while standing on your tiptoe. She could win the Guinness world record for the laziest human on earth and beat every motherfucking competitor hands down. If she was a robot, indolence would be her default setting.

So when her dad told her to look presentable, which to a normal human would have been processed to mean "dry your hair and wear something neat", Anita's poor mashed-up brain processed it to be "sleep with your wet hair and wet towel on the couch in the sitting room" . And that, she did.

And as the doorbell sounded for the third time, Anita decided it was time to go open the door for her Prince Charming. Sliding gracefully down the hallway, she opened it. Batting her eyelids, smiling wistfully, she pressed into him for a kiss. Lips just few inches from each other, the loud bang that sounded like hammers to her head stopped the charade and woke her up from the stupid fairytale she was having for a dream.

Someone was about to break down her door. So she yawned. And stretched. And drawled to the door. Just what the typical Anita would do.

" 'The fuck are you?" She drawled on, leaning against the door, eyes half closed. At least she knew not to open the door without asking even in her half conscious state.

"Someone who's here to teach you the proper way to greet visitors" A female voice replied, bringing her out fully from dreamland.

"Huh?"

"Just open the door."

"Why should I? I don't know you."

"Besides if you're here to 'teach me manners' like you claim, then you should probably have a bit of it and know that trying to take someone's door off it's hinges is no mannerly way of announcing your presence especially when there is a doorbell" She concluded, and of course, with an eye roll.

"Thanks for the speech. Now let me in."

"Speech? Seriously?" She questioned in disbelief.

"Hey young lady. I know eventually in some few minutes I'm gonna be seated right there in your sitting room whether you open this door or not. So why not make this easy for both of us and just peacefully open the door? "

There was something about this particular voice that sounded off to Anita. She felt it was.. Rare.  Weird too. But cool weird. And curiosity just made her want to throw the door wide open and see the soul that voice came out from.  But playing stubborn was more fun.

"Nope. Not until you tell me who you ar- "

"It's your freaking nanny. Now will you open the goddamn door?!.. I'm freezing out here." Exasperated, the voice yelled, cutting her short.

With a winning smile, Anita unlocked the door. And paused.

For lo and behold, this nanny was not your average nanny with the French dresses from the 19th century that looked like she had six kids at home and entirely depended on taking care of other people's kids to feed hers..

She was drop dead gorgeous. Dressed simply in a deep blue denim jeans that clad to her well rounded hips like a second skin, tucked into fashionable boots that seem to cost a fortune, she looked like a model ready for her photoshoot. She wore no make up, yet she was glowing. Her deep black hair fell around her shoulders like wild black flames, yet she looked perfect. Her thick white jacket contrasted deeply with her dark caramelike skin colour, making Anita dream of rich creamy chocolate with white frosting. Her brown eyes surrounded by a mass of lashes were enchanting. And for a moment the world seemed to be in slow motion and Anita could almost swear she could see the halo of an angel around her.