Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor
"It's both," Georg spoke aloud, turning to the empty seat beside him that Maria had been occupying. He sighed as he noticed she was no longer there, even though he had heard her leave almost two hours ago. Strangely, he could still feel the pressure on his shoulder where her hand had touched, and he could still feel the warmth that surrounded him, like it was almost keeping him safe in refuge, even though she had left long ago. He cursed himself – he cursed his mind, his tongue, he cursed himself for not having the courage to reveal to her all that he had been hiding. It was true, he was running away and hiding from the accident, but he was also running from something else…
… His past. Georg was a man who told himself that grief lacked clarity, and would make a man seem less than he is. He associated everything painful with all that is cold, and did little to seek the warmth that would pull him out of the deep hole he found himself within. Georg was an agile, and skilled climber however even the slopes of this hole were too complicated to climb without aid.
Georg needed Maria. His head told him no, but a strange sensation around his lower stomach told him otherwise. His heart told him otherwise, however typical and cliché that sounded and however much he would flinch at even the notion of emotions. Georg ran his hand smoothly across the wooden bench, in the exact place where she had been sat. Then he began to clutch at the side, and his knuckles turned white in anger.
Control was a major aspect of his life, and without control he felt inadequate. What is the use of having no control? Man without control over his impulses would become an uncivilised savage who disregarded the law or any authority put ahead of him. Society without control – the world without control – would cease to exist. Every man would be in combat with the other, because there would be no one to govern and no one to say when enough is, and when is to end the mayhem and chaos that highlighted the lack of human discrepancy.
Georg remained out of control of his emotions, and as a result of that he felt himself spiralling into confusion. He longed for the gentle touch of a woman, the warmth of lips on his cheeks, and for someone to come and pull down the curtain and dispose of the confusion. His eyes were in need of being opened.
Georg sat on that bench for at least another few hours, before he noticed that night had fallen around him and realised that it was time to meet Maria. He smiled at the thought simply that the small event that had unfolded a few nights ago had now turned into something regular. He pulled himself up from the seating position and walked with a new sense of purpose, and as he arrived at the tavern, he saw that she was just leaving.
Maria smiled as she caught sight of him. The bright blue of his eyes shimmered even now in the depths of nightfall. His face looked pained still, however she hoped that after their conversation earlier that afternoon he would be more respondent and willing to speak with her. It was not just him; she too wanted to release the burden from her chest that had been restrictive and weighing her down for so long. She knew that Georg had been involved in the war, and she had longed for someone with this experience to come along so she would be able to speak with him about her own losses.
"I thought you weren't coming tonight," spoke Maria, albeit a little shyly. "When you didn't come in for a drink earlier I thought you may have retired early for the night."
Georg chuckled at her admittance, and walked across to stand by her side. "And who would walk you home? I couldn't leave you in the hands of some stranger."
Maria laughed, and feeling a wave of confidence wash over her she linked her arm through his and let her head drop on his shoulder. She could feel his surprise as his muscles tensed. However her nerves were soon calmed as she felt them relax again, seemingly at ease with their newfound contact.
The couple began their customary walk away from the water edge and closer to the inner regions of the old, fishing town. They wandered down the normal streets, taking in the usual sights that would initiate further conversation. As they turned another corner, a few droplets of rain began to fall on their heads, however the two ignored the momentary disturbance and continued their conversation and leisurely walk.
As they turned another corner however, Georg stopped them, the words that were circling his mind and that were on the tip of his tongue acting as the reason for this. Maria looked at him with confusion, her eyes searching his for the justification of their stopping. Georg drew away from her for a moment, and instantly missed the contact.
"It was both," he admitted, summoning the courage to reveal to her what had been torturing him since their earlier meeting. He saw her confusion, and continued. "… Earlier, when you asked what I was running from... It was both."
Maria nodded slowly, smiling sympathetically at him.
"You deserve to know. You deserve to know why I am such a bastard."
His words were bitter, and Maria flinched at the tone. Then she smiled still, and shook her head in disagreement. "You're not," she spoke in a calm and reassuring manner. She moved her hand up to his cheek and tenderly brushed her thumb across the smooth, shaven skin. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here now if you were." Her lips were moving closer and closer to his face, and for one fleeting moment Georg thought she was going to press her lips to his own. However, their initial destination was his cheek. He still soared at the touch – her lips were soft, and gentle and it was the touch he had longed for.
The rain had now begun to beat down faster and faster, and the two were starting to become soaked with water. Maria drew back, and her cheeks had gained rather a lot of colour, a sign of her embarrassment at the intimate touch she had just initiated. As Georg enveloped her entire appearance, he swore that nothing could ever be as beautiful. The rain had taken its toll on her appearance, and her hair clung to the sides of her face, dripping wet and the droplets of water that had soaked her fringe were falling onto her face and rolling down her cheeks. But she still remained beautiful, and hoping to dispel her of any embarrassment she still had, he took her hand that was still cupping his cheek in his own and moved his lips slowly in the direction of hers.
Maria realised the situation they were in, and had no intentions of backing down. However, as her eyes closed awaiting the kiss, a huge clap of thunder sounded around them, forcing the young woman to leap back and scream in fright. It was not that she was particularly afraid of thunderstorms – in fact, she would often sit at her bedroom window and listen to the thunder whilst the water tapped against her window, for there was something therapeutic about the sound that she loved – but whilst outside it remained a different story.
Georg, who sensed her fright, pulled her back towards him and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Knowing that her home was too far away for them to walk in this weather, he steered them in the direction of another place where he knew they could take refuge from the storm.
Maria was curious as to where they were heading to, but knowing that she could trust Georg she followed and allowed him to take the lead.
It took them less than three minutes to reach the hotel Georg was residing in. The reception desk was empty, presumably the middle-aged woman had disappeared earlier that night given that the time was now approaching one o'clock. Georg loosened his grip around Maria now, however still guided her to the staircase, and to his own room. Once inside, he began poking at the fire in a bid to provoke the warmth that the pair desperately required.
"I'm not usually afraid of thunderstorms," Maria commented as she came to join him by the fire, letting her hands rest a little away from the flames as she tried to warm them up. They were both now kneeling by the fire, keeping warm both because of the flames and by being in the company of each other. "I usually sit by my window and listen to it."
Georg turned his head and smiled at her. It was then that he noticed her clothes were soaking wet, and they clung to her body in the most revealing of manners. However, casting aside the clear outline of her body and the effect that was having on him, he politely announced, "You need dry clothes."
Maria, who had felt him watching her, shook her head. "Oh no, I'll be fine. They'll dry soon, and -"
Georg stopped her with his hand. "You'll catch a cold," he argued. Then he rose to his feet and headed in the direction of the bedroom. "Wait here, and I'll fetch you some."
Maria thought it wise not to argue, after all she was beginning to shiver and knew that if she did refuse then she would pay the consequences soon enough. He arrived back almost five minutes later having changed himself, and whilst drying his own hair with a towel he held out to her a pair of his trousers and one of his white shirts. She took them and smiled at him thankfully, before disappearing into the other room to change.
Georg busied himself whilst she was changing – he boiled a pot of water and began making them both hot drinks. He attempted to forget that she was changing just in the other room; however the image of her with those clothes clinging to her body failed to leave his mind. He could not deny his attraction to her; his desires, however he refused to act upon them or even think about them at the moment.
He failed to notice her emerge from the other room, and it was only when she laughed a little that his attention was grasped. She gestured to the clothes, which were at least two sizes too big for her petite frame. The shirt he had given her would have fallen to her mid-thighs had she not tucked it into the trousers, and even those were tied together at the waist with one of his belts. "I borrowed one of your belts, I hope you don't mind."
Georg shook his head, fighting not to smile too widely at her appearance. She walked across to him, and took the towel which he had flung across his shoulder and began to rub her hair which was still damp with rain water. Once she had finished drying it, she noticed that Georg had made the two of them drinks, which were placed on the floor just in front of the fire.
She knelt and joined him there, only for him to turn around and burst into laughter. He gestured to her hair, and how it was now sticking out in all the wrong places – to put it nicely it was a mess, and Georg was only too happy to voice this opinion.
"I could say the same about yours," retorted Maria, giving him a mock glare whilst taking a sip of her drink.
"But look," laughed Georg, his left hand moving to her head in an attempt to flatten the boisterous, blonde hair. "It's…" he continued to smooth her hair, unable to find the right words. The contact once again had caused the two of them to fall silent, and their eyes soon found each other. Words were spoken in those silent moments, and signals passed between them that only they could ever decipher.
It was Maria who initiated the kiss. It was tender to begin with, a shy exploration as she timidly searched to discover more about him. The feel of his lips was exciting for her, and she felt no reason to stop. Then Georg responded, inserting the power and the dominance of his lips. His hands fell from her hair to her waist.
The cackling of the fire behind them brought warmth to the room; however it was not required as there was a new source of comfort, and warmth, for both.
I've tried to amend the description to dialogue ratio, it won't be that different yet but I'll keep working on it. Thank you all for the feedback, and please let me know what you think to this chapter. You'll discover more to this Maria's past in a little while...
