Disclaimer: I do not own anything by Rodger's and Hammerstein; I am merely a devout fan.
A/N: I love the shows that Rodgers and Hammerstein, among them The Sound of Music. I also love South Pacific. In that show is a beautiful love song called "Younger than Springtime," sung by a US Marine who has fallen in love with a young native woman. When I heard this song again randomly, while writing my first SOM fic, I thought "This would make just as much sense if the Captain had sung it to Maria." So that is my inspiration. Each of these chapters will be a one-shot that reflects a lyric in the song, which I will post at the beginning of each of them so those of you who don't know the song will not be confused. And to those people, I highly recommend you look up this musical and its music; like everything Rodgers and Hammerstein did in their extraordinary partnership, it is truly beautiful. Enjoy!
Morning, August 16, 1937
Georg woke up slowly from what had been the most peaceful sleep he'd had in years. Before opening his eyes, he let his other senses wake and be satisfied. He heard distant church bells chiming, a lark singing nearby, and the peaceful breathing of his bride along with his own. Inhaling slowly through his nose, he could smell her intoxicating scent in the air. Lying on his stomach, one of his arms was draped across something warm and soft. He felt sunlight on the bare skin of his back and arm.
Finally, he slowly opened his eyes, and he saw his vision clear and focus on the sight of Maria sleeping beside him. A ray of sunlight had fallen on her short golden hair, now tousled on the pillow, almost giving her a halo effect. And Georg knew how much of an angel she was, in every way. She lay on her back, her head tilted in his direction, a hand resting beside her face. Her expression was one of completely peaceful sleep, and beneath his arm he could feel her slow breathing and steady heartbeat.
Slowly, he slid his arm off her as he rolled onto his side, making sure to stay close to her. Propping himself up on his elbow, Georg savored this moment of watching her so at peace. As he did, he realized fully for the first time that she was his wife, and that this sight would be what he woke up to every morning for the rest of his life. The thought made his face break into a smile. Yesterday had been their wedding day, and there were so many moments of her that he would never forget. The sight of her walking down the aisle looking straight at him . . . how her eyes had filled with happy tears as they'd exchanged vows of love . . . the wistful expression on her face as they danced the Laendler for the first time since the grand and glorious party . . . her smiling and laughing with the children during the reception . . . the happy, mellow expression on her face just before she'd drifted to sleep on the train ride to Paris . . . her giggles of surprise as he'd picked her up to carry her across the threshold into the honeymoon suite . . . The complete trust and unlimited love mingled with shyness and curiosity as they'd consumated their love, truly becoming one in th eyes of God . . .
Feeling a sudden sweep of strong love and desire sweep through his body as he thought of the previous night, Georg could no longer resist touching her. Still, he did not yet have the heart to wake her and break that expression of peace on her face. So, his touch gentle, he reached out and smoothed her hair. It was warm from the light of the sun, and so soft, just as he'd remembered.
As he gazed at his young bride, he once again could not believe that such a beautiful, young, faithful, spirited and loving woman had given her complete self to him, a stubborn sea captain nearly two decades her senior. Looking back at their time together, he would always regret how he'd first treated her with cold scorn, wrapped his own selfish grief; also how, after he'd danced with her and his eyes had been opened, he'd not only not come after her, but found himself engaged to another woman. Maria had said later how she'd never blamed him for it – he'd run away just like her – but he still hated he'd done it. Thank God she'd come back, proving once again how much braver and a better person she was than him. He didn't deserve her, yet she loved him. And he would love her for the rest of his life.
His gaze drifted to the hand that rested on the pillow beside her face. Reaching out to stroke the smooth skin of her palm, Georg recalled the first time he'd held her hand, also the first time he'd ever touched her . . .