Move, Witch, Get Out Da Way

Vittorio Mattaes

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"Good evening, Mister Mattaes!" cried the Italian Vintner, Raphael Abbiati. Vittorio nodded back but didn't stop to chat as he carried his paints and easel out to the courtyard of the winery. It was set above a beautiful Tuscan vineyard and was only half an hour from his family home, but he never came to interact with the tourists or local patrons. He painted the surrounding hills, the beautiful limestone building and the seemingly never-ending expanse of grape vines, then thanked the Abbiati's by occasionally buying a bottle of the most expensive wine they made.

Painting was his only true hobby. The rest was work, including the research he did to keep his medical knowledge up to date, but it was mostly wasted on the dead he cremated or embalmed. More often that not, his studies on decaying tissues were forgotten with the need to rouge a seventy-year-old deceased house-cleaner's cheeks before her family came to fight over her wordly possessions. Tori found obituaries to be the most depressing thing in the world. There's you dead, and then there's the classifieds on the next page with all your sh!t for sale.

He mixed water colours first, then abandoned the test paper as the colours weren't rich enough to capture the current sunset. The Italian felt the need to use oils, so whilst he marinated in his melancholy, he combined expensive pigments and gazed out over the vineyard as though the lustrous browns and reds would fade to blues to match his mood. When Tori looked up from his canvas, there was a figure obstructing his view. It was slender and feminine, pleasing to the eye and a delight for any artist who may want to capture such a form.
"Scusi, Signorina," Vittorio called irritably to the person standing in the frame of his mind's eye. "You're in the way."
 
Elliot was taking a long-over due holiday. It had been a full six months since she had last gone exploring! Her mind was going into over-load. The red-head could not concentrate on anything, and her coach had obviously noticed as they didn't hesitate in letting her have a break. It wasn't their busy season anyway, and Elliot couldn't wait to get out of America. As big of a country as it was, Elliot was getting bored. She was getting into a rut, and that was the worst. As soon as she realized how incredibly bored she was, Elliot started planning a trip to a place she'd never been. Surprisingly, she hadn't been to much of Europe. Having attended school in New Zealand, she had explored most of that country, and Australia, and all the little countries around there, but it was time to explore more of the Northern Hemisphere. Elliot had pleaded with her mom to look after her horse, but it didn't take much as her mom was quite used to Elliot skipping out of town at a moment's notice. Elliot was eternally grateful to her mom. But she supposed she could always put her in a stable if needed. The horse, not her mother.
Elliot had spent a few days in Italy already. It was a stunning place, but her favorite had been the top of Palazzo del Comune in Piazza Grande. It had an amazing view, and Elliot loved the thrill of being high up; though it wasn't as high as she had been with her broom. However, today was a new day, and she was exploring a stunning vineyard, a glass of wine in her hand as she walked around, enjoying the views. To be fair, she was almost ready to move on. She loved looking at beautiful things, and pretty views, but most of the fun was the journey of getting there and back. But, it was still early; well too early for Elliot to be retiring to bed anyway.
Elliot managed to find her way to a quieter area, she finished her glass of wine, before turning around, startled by the voice behind her. In front of her stood a tall drink of water, and she definitely needed another glass. Elliot grinned when she saw he was painting. "No no! I'll be your model for you! Here - " She said, putting the glass on the ground and placing a hand on her hip, her face looking outwards, away from her body. "Is this good?" She asked, looking back at the painter, her grin still on her face.
 
He was surprised when the woman didn't take the hint, because he hadn't hinted; Vittorio had outright told her to jog on, and she hadn't even twitched, just turning and hamming it up for the canvas.
"I am not a portrait artist," he said awkwardly. Most people were swiftly turned off by his brusque manners. All the Italian got was a pretty grin for his troubles, and he couldn't help but think that she was painfully adorable. That was even more irritating.

Vittorio saw soon enough that his new model wasn't going anyway, which made him sigh out of his nostrils and turn the easel towards her.
"You see? Tis all vineyards. If I were to paint your portrait, I would have to-" Well, painting day was ruined for him, anyway. The mortician jabbed his paintbrush into a swath of fiery red paint and stroked a line straight through his half-finished painting. He didn't lift it from the canvas to create the impression of a slender female body with one line of paint, and there it stood, violent and bright against the pretty sunset background.
"There, you've been painted." said Tori ungenerously.
 
Elliot tutted and swatted her hand at his comment; pish posh, an artist was an artist and he should've been excited for a new model, a new thing to paint. She could totally be his muse! Elliot would love to be someone's muse, how exciting it would be! Getting a message in the middle of the night, a quick and scribbled note saying 'I need some muse, come quick!'. Elliot wouldn't even hesitate. And she'd love to get late night messages from this particular artist.
The red-head held her pose, but looked at his painting of a vineyard, her eyes widening a bit. He was really good! But he said 'all vineyards', and she could imagine how boring it must be to always paint the same thing. Good thing she was there to help him see what else he could be painting, and how much more beauty there is in life! At his comment that she had been painted, Elliot grinned. "Wow! That was fast!" She exclaimed, before hurrying over to view his work. Well, it was exactly what she was expecting. Though he did make it red, and her hair was red, so could still claim it was her. Elliot nodded her approval. "I think you should call it Elliot." She commented, before turning and looking at the handsome man. "That's what you can call me too." She grinned cheekily.
"Oooh, I also know somewhere else you should paint, it's really cool, come, I'll take you there." Elliot encouraged, holding her hand out for him to grab. Plus, she could totally sit on a rock or half wall and be painted again.
 
Where did this lady get off? Who cared what her name was! Now he was obliged to offer his own, and he was not in the mood for conversation with a tourist (speaking English. Shudder). She offered another of her grins, and Vittorio even winced slightly as if the sunniness of her disposition was painful to his dark eyes. If looks could kill, this 'Elliot' would likely be ... well, at least mildly uncomfortable.

The mortician folded his lips in bemusement at the proffered hand and deigned not to take it, but he stood anyway; the tranquility of this place was ruined, one way or another. He let out a very put-upon sigh and questioned, "Where exactly were you wanting to take me, Signorina?"
As he spoke, he began drying his paints with his wand very carefully so as to not ruin the pigments, and casting a stasis charm on his canvas. If worst came to worst, he could palm off the ruined landscape onto her, and she'd probably be happy for it, too. He remembered that the fire-haired tourist had given her name, and he grumbled inwardly as his supplies disappeared into his satchel. Finally he turned and offered her a short bow, begrudgingly taking her hand delicately and kissing it.
"Vittorio Mattaes," was all he said, dropping her hand like it scorched. "This had better be good."
 
Elliot grinned at the man's sigh. For some reason she couldn't take his grumpiness seriously. If he was having a bad day, then the red head wanted to help cheer him up! It also was fortunate that he was incredibly attractive. Elliot chuckled at his comment. "Mm-mm," She mused, shaking her head. "Not Signorina - Elliot." She giggled. Elliot watched him as he cleaned up, wanting his full attention before she let him know where they were going. Or, she could just take him and surprise him! He was sure to love it. She smiled when he took her hand and kissed it. Elliot playfully put the hand on her chest like she had been kissed by some famous movie star, before shooting him a cheeky grin again. "Mr Mattaes, I am certain it will exceed your expectations." Elliot said, poshing her accent up, standing tall. Acting was so much fun, and she loved messing around.
On her comment, Elliot moved forward, and took his hand. She gave it a small kiss as he did her, before turning on the spot and apparating them to her new favorite place. As they landed, Elliot let go and took a step forward. She turned around and put her hands in the air, a huge smile on her face. "Palazzo del Comune! Montepulciano!" Elliot exclaimed (though her diction and accent needed a ton of work), before dropping her arms and turning around. The top had such an amazing view, he definitely needed to paint this place. From the top of the Palazzo del Comune, they could see all over Montepulciano, the valley different shades of green with the plethora of trees, a few tall buildings and churches peeking over the top of them in the distance. "Much better than a vineyard, right Mr. Mattaes?" Elliot asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look back at him.
 
"Elliot," Vittorio repeated, but only for her benefit. He added Signorina in his head there it stayed, quietly defying her stubbornness for all that his own could match it if he tried. Trying seemed to be pointless with this woman, too. He'd kissed her hand out of politeness, and she'd gone and ruined decorum by kissing his in return. Luckily he was too surprised to yank it out this time, for she'd used their contact to apparate away. Being splinched would probably only make the stony Italian grumpier.

He found himself taken aback to be in a gorgeous valley that he did not recognise until Elliot uttered the name, and then he forgot all about his personal space being invaded. Vittorio stepped forward with her and gazed quietly about with a look of private wonder. Oh yes, he must paint this valley, but he would have to return as they were losing the light. The Italian fixed an expression of bored disinterest on his face when he turned back around, just for her.
"No, not better than a vineyard," he told Elliot without missing a beat. "There's nowhere to get absolutely ratted after putting up with- excuse me, being introduced to your company." And there, despite himself, the corners of his mouth twitched and gave away the tease that was hidden behind the insult.
 
Elliot loved the way that the man had said her name, names were such a wonderful thing, and to have someone call you by your name was always so beautiful. Unless they were angry or yelling, then it was never fun. And even though the man didn't seem incredibly ecstatic to meet her or say her name, it still sounded nice coming from him.
As Elliot looked back at Vittorio, she was still met with a stoic expression but she smiled at his reply of it not being better than a vineyard. The red-head was beginning to see traits of stubbornness in him but she liked it and thought it was fun; definitely an improvement to some of the other boring people she had met. Elliot turned around fully at his next comment, seeing the almost-smile on his face. Even if he weren't joking, she wouldn't have been that offended, she knew she could be overwhelming and as much as her mother told her to calm down, Elliot just loved having fun, and helping other people have fun. She laughed at the statement and walked over closer to him. "There you go! You're starting to have fun." She teased, placing her hand on his arm. Elliot turned back to the view. "You can't tell me you don't want to paint this though. I don't mind being your model again." She grinned. "Maybe I need to give up my Quidditch career and take up modeling, right?" Elliot joked, laughing.
 
Merlin save him, but this woman was touchy. The last time he'd been touched by a girl was by proxy after his sister had hit him with her notebook, when he'd said that her urn design was 'Mediocre, at best'. Well, she couldn't have expected him to lie to his own sister, could she? Vittorio smirked at the memory and realised that he'd just grinned when Elliot had touched him, which wiped it away faster than a toupee in a hurricane. Give her an inch, and she'd take a mile. Vittorio sighed longsufferingly and picked up her hand to place it on her own arm.

"Dealing with you, Signorina, is like herding cats," said the mortician, specifically skipping her name just to wind her up. No guarantee that it would actually work- Elliot seemed unflappable, whereas the Italian was the most flappable person to exist without wings.
"I repeat, I do not do portraits. Your modeling career, however ..." Vittorio lifted an eyebrow and pretended to appraise the redhead. "Well, the idea has merit. Provided you could sit still, of course. Considering what you have just told me about your work, my hopes are not high. Tell me, what position do you play?"
 
Noticing Vittorio's grin made Elliot's grin, if possible, even bigger; even if his had disappeared fast enough. It was all she needed, and she didn't mind as he removed her hand because even if it was just for a second - he had smiled and Elliot felt empowered by it. The red-haired girl giggled at his statement, obviously her nickname was now 'Signorina', but she never had a problem with cats anyway so what he said didn't upset her too much. Elliot waved her hand at Vittorio when he said he didn't do portraits, he really should be giving new things a try. But she felt herself blush for the first time when he said her modeling career had merit; though sitting still did not sound fun, surely there had to be some sort of active modeling, like modeling the new quidditch brooms or something. Although having a modeling career was just a joke, she would never actually do it, but she laughed at his comment anyway. "I am a chaser!" Elliot mentioned with a wink; it was true in many senses. "Do you play? Or watch? I'm with Fitchburg Finches, you should come watch a game sometime! Hey, what do you do? Are you a struggling artist, or successful? Or do you do other things as well?" Elliot teased.
 

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