Welcome back to Abby's!
DISCLAIMER: Sound of Music isn't mine!
2:55 p.m., Wednesday, Abby's Mart
The past few months had left her constantly in a haze – she felt as if she were on pink-coloured clouds. In a dream. But that was the thing – the past half year had felt too good to be true. What if –
"I thought I just might find you here," a voice pulled her immediately from her thoughts. She was glad for it, really. Upon hearing a hint of a smile in his voice, and seeing that familiar sparkle in his eye, she felt much more assured. He was right here –
Hold on, right here?
Georg?
He's really early. Really early? More like too early. Too early? More like impo – "I didn't see you come in," she smirked. "Got over your fear of being early?" She jested as she began scanning the items that he had already placed on the counter.
"Of course not," he rolled his eyes. "You know me better than that."
"Just confirming. Well anyways, you won't have a decent excuse for 'choosing' to be late anymore."
"Hmm?"
"I'm getting vaccinated next week!"
"Hmm, interesting, so am I!"
"And you didn't bother telling me?" They turned to each other, incidentally, saying it at the same time. Same brain! Oh, what a pair they were.
"Well anyways, mine will be next Wednesday. When's yours?"
"Mine's on Saturday, and I'm glad for it – I can rest on Sunday. Will you be taking Thursday off?"
"Hmm, I suppose that would be wise."
"It would. The side effects…" he scrunched up his nose (which she found adorable, but she wouldn't dare tell him that). "Max was knocked out the entire day yesterday. He was looking much better when I saw him this morning, but he needs more rest."
"Oh my, send him all my love, will you?"
"As long as I get some sort of compensation for being your courier, I will," he grinned.
"You get ten percent. That's it," she laughed lightly as she extended her hand to ask for his card. He slightly brushed his hand with hers, his eyes twinkling with something that –
She looked away. Instantly. She bit her lip as she waited for the receipt to print. Finally tearing the receipt and placing it on the little tray together with his card and finishing bagging items, she turned to face him once more.
"I love you," she whispered – only for him.
"I love you, too," he said softly – just for her. "Don't forget, seven."
"I'll be ready by six, don't worry," she winked. "Keep safe!"
"I will. Bye."
"Bye."
She watched him leave, a wide smile on her face. Sighing, she wiped her counter with a little bit of rubbing alcohol. One can never be too sure!
Hearing a familiar ping, she peeked on her phone and laughed at the notification on the screen.
One new message
Marge [sparkle]: You and the other half of your brain cell are sickly sweet, you know that?
[Received 3:00 p.m.]
"I know," she smiled to herself.
5:43 p.m., Wednesday, Von Trapp Villa
As he sat in his study, typing furiously on his laptop, attempting to try not to feel more anxious than he should. It was just a date, he thought – just like the dozens of dates they've gone on before. Food, talking. That was it. Type, type, type. Hopeless. Suddenly heard a bang, making him jump from his seat ever-so-slightly. Then came the familiar sound of "Rum-pa-pum, rum-pa-pum, rum-pa-pum, rum-pa-pum, heart and souuul –"
Seems that the Cheshire cat is up and alive, he thought dryly. "He's feeling better" seemed like an understatement. The Cheshire cat was feeling too much better. Though he didn't necessarily want his friend to suffer, he rather liked it when the house was quieter. Much quieter.
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two,
One –
"Georgie!" The door to his study flew open to reveal Max wearing the most ridiculous dressing gown (who even still wears dressing gowns?) he has ever seen. Even more ridiculous because Max was wearing it, and really – bright green was not his colour.
"I see that you're alive and kicking," Georg rolled his eyes upon seeing an overly-cheerful Max welcome himself into the study.
"Never more alive! I'm just alive as the hills and the mountains and the birds! I feel invincible!"
"Sure you do," he murmured, shaking his head. Sighing, he continued on attempting to type. Damn. Imagine the chaos once he's had his second dose. Upon hearing Max flop down onto the chair opposite him, he looked up briefly. "Maria sends ninety percent of her love, by the way."
"Only ninety? That lady wounds me!"
"Yes, you get ninety, while I get ten. Be grateful for what you have."
"Ah, I always knew that she had impeccable taste! For how can one resist the charms of Maximillian Detweiler? Impossible!"
He chose not to respond to that, instead, shaking his head while Max continued to monologue on the effects of his devastating charm. For what seemed like hours of torture, Max stopped to stare at him.
"All these jokes aside, Georg, you are my oldest friend. And I take pride in that fact. But…"
"But what?"
"If you so much as hurt Maria, I will not hesitate to – to – erhm –"
"To what?" A grin began to play on his lips, though his friend wore a much more serious expression on his face.
"I will manage to think of something, I swear by it! But really, Georg, don't you dare hurt the lady. I know that I won't be the only one who will turn against you if you do."
"Duly noted, Max. I have no intentions to."
6:23 p.m., Wednesday, Car
"Seriously, what's with you and being prompt today, huh?" She teased. It was true. He was absurdly early with his grocery shopping today, and now he was more than half an hour early. It was a good thing that she had been true to her word and was ready by six.
"Let's just say, Maria – I don't want to derail from the schedule."
She almost rolled her eyes. Her Georg? Prompt? Strict schedule? It was impossible. Impossible? Impossible! Impossible, a voice sang in her head, But! Impossible things are happening everyday! Perhaps this was just one of them?
"I see," she nodded her head, eyebrow raised, still not believing him, as she settled comfortably on the seat. "And what exactly do you plan to do tonight that requires a schedule?"
"Hm, you see, I'm not really one to say," he grinned, and she shook her head exasperatedly. Typical Georg. Surprises, spontaneity, smiles.
(He really was so unlike that magazine article she once read about him – they had called him a planner – calculated and precise, and perhaps in ways, he was. Yet her Georg was a carefree person [though she knew that he wasn't always]. One that would message her on her days off and ask if she wanted a milkshake or whatever. One that would impulsively appear at her doorstep with a mini projector and ice cream just because he wanted to watch movies with her. One who dealt with all her unfunny jokes with his own unfunny jokes. One who sat in front of a piano and composed on the spot, just for her. But the author was right about two things, and quite accurately so, she thought to herself: one, he was devastatingly handsome, that was without question, and two, he was dedicated – in fact, one of the most dedicated people she has ever known. She saw how passionate he was in everything that he did, and simply the thought made her heart swell.)
"Now face the other way, if you please," he suddenly spoke, and she slightly jumped in her seat.
She shot him an unamused look, which quickly turned into curiosity when he began removing his tie. Her heart sped a little, and she managed to swallow the lump forming in her throat.
"Now, turn," he said once he had removed his tie successfully. "Please," he added. So hesitantly, she did. "Now, close your eyes."
"What –"
But before she could say another word, she saw him begin to arrange the tie in front of her, each hand holding either side. She could feel the dark, silky fabric slipping over her cheek, and very gently being pulled over his eyes.
"Hmm, a makeshift blindfold. This can't be good," she muttered.
"Really? You might find it to your advantage."
Oh?
"Well, for all I know, you might be taking me hostage."
"I'm not."
"Why should I believe you?"
"What type of kidnapper would give their captive the pleasure of listening to Sinatra and Streisand whilst they're being kidnapped?"
"One gaining their captive's trust," she turned out so suddenly that she felt the tie slip down her eyes a little. She jutted out her chin defiantly, trying desperately to not grin. Though she still wore a mask, she knew full well that he could see right through it, just as she saw right through his.
"And why would I kidnap you, pray tell?"
"I don't know. All I know is that I'm scared to be tied up and left in the woods, alright?"
He merely laughed, and she rolled her eyes. She couldn't see him right now, but she felt his finger gently lead her chin to face away from him. Then she felt his hand on the back of her head as he finished tying the blindfold. She could smell his scent softly surrounding her. She could imagine him smiling under his mask, his dimples –
"Tied up and left in the w – You have a much-too-active imagination, love."
Oh, if only you knew.
6:49 p.m., Wednesday, Date Site
Alright, he'll admit, maybe he was being over-dramatic.
Oh-kay, drop the maybe, he was being over-dramatic. Besides being such a show-off, that is.
Once he had successfully parked the car, he opened his door and rushed to open hers as fast as he could. Her blindfolded self would probably not feel confident to walk on her own, so like the show-off he was, he scooped her (effortlessly) into his arms. To his surprise, she hadn't protested. A little bit of "what the heck is –" came from her every now and then, but –
Well, alright, in his defense, though, once she stood on the pebbled ground, she would have immediately known where she was. Really, he didn't want to give the location away quite yet (is what he told himself repeatedly). It would ruin the surprise.
She shifted slightly in his arms, and had looped her arms over his neck, pulling herself closer to him. Taking the cue, he found himself slightly adjusting the way he held her. If anything, he wanted her to feel safer while he walked.
She should know by now, though, he would never let her fall.
Just a little further.
His heart was pounding wildly as he finally saw the date site before his eyes. Slowly and nervously, he helped her stand. He was shaking, and he could only hope that she hadn't noticed.
"Argh, I just know it," she groaned, but a wide smile was on her face. "You really do hate me so much that you've brought me to the forest! I feel tall grass and branches and –"
"I love you, but sometimes, you really do overreact," he laughed. With one fluid motion of his fingers, the tie slid off her face, and her eyes immediately flew open. She gasped loudly because –
6:52 p.m., Wednesday, The Date Site: Gazebo
She found herself standing in front of a well-lit gazebo. She had been in this exact same place many a time over the months, yet she hadn't seen the gazebo this beautiful. It was breathtaking, really, especially under the moonlight, but never – never ever like this. That man has outdone himself, she smiled dazedly.
In shock, her normally-observant self hadn't managed to notice anything else but the big picture – details flying over her head. No, she didn't really look, not really noticing the pillows arranged on the floor and on the benches, the music that played softly, nor the picnic basket laying idly on the cornflower blue blanket. All she managed to say was –
"We're not in the forest."
"No, we're not, love," he laughed. "Now, dinner, m'lady?"
"Of course, kind sir!"
He held her hand and led her inside.
And let the date commence!
Everything went like a breeze – and she was still too dazed to actually focus on anything, only thinking that perhaps this was the nicest and most romantic thing someone has ever done for her. Plus, the entire meal had been so good, she couldn't stop gushing! Then they talked – as they so often do. She burst out laughing at something he had said, and he grinned (like the smug idiot that he is, she added in her mind. My smug idiot, that is).
They shut off the lights and laid down on the blanket, and stared at the stars and thought about everything. The degree she was working on. His new promotion. Brigitta's writing award. Gretl's first semester in a big school. Then the music that played in the background began to slow. He sat up in the guise of getting more blueberries (blueberries were his favourites), and looked up discreetly, yet it didn't go unnoticed. She waved it off.
(But later on he would tell her that he spotted an open window, the pink lights vibrant against the dark. He saw a hand wave at him and give him a thumbs up.
Of course, everything was Liesl's doing.)
o0o0o0o0o0o
Worries and anxieties and nervousness bubbled in his chest. He rather felt like he was in high school, really, asking a girl out or whatever. No, he thought. I wasn't even half as nervous as this when I asked Agathe to the graduation ball. But summoning up all his courage, he stood as a new song began to play. My compliments to Liesl.
"May I have this dance?" He pulled her to her feet, and gave her a deep bow. She shook her head.
"Well, I'm afraid my dance card is full…"
"Could you spare me just one dance?"
"Well… how can I refuse?"
The next few moments hadn't really registered into his mind, except that the press of her body against his had felt like home. Warm and soft, and love and smiles, and everything. As they swayed gently to the rhythm of the song, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, nothing had ever felt so perfect.
This was it.
This was it.
This was it.
One glance. Thumbs up. Deep breath.
"Maria, well, I wanted to ask you something, but…"
"Is there something wrong?"
"No, no, no, I –"
There was a familiar ringing coming from her pocket. But her hand was swift. Glance. Furrowed brow, Silent.
"I'm sorry," she muttered softly – apologetically.
"No, it's –"
Then once more. Silent.
Then once more. Silent.
Then once more. Silent –
"Maria –"
He saw the conflict in her eyes. And he knew the reason why she didn't answer any calls from unknown numbers, and by the way she tried to wave it off nonchalantly, there must have been a reason as to why –
"If they need me, they'd text," she said simply.
Ping.
9:45 p.m., Wednesday, Precinct
She hadn't known what to feel when she had read the text. Nor did she know what to feel now that she was here. She had been confused and annoyed, but she was terribly relieved that Georg was here to talk to the policemen in the precinct. She wouldn't know how to deal with them, or what to say or –
"You don't have to face him," he took his hand in hers before they entered the precinct.
"But I have to."
"Then whatever happens, I will be with you. I'll be there when you face him."
She could only squeeze his hand.
She had thought that seeing him would make her blood boil and make every muscle in her body vibrate with anger, yet at the sight of her uncle behind bars, she could feel nothing else but pity for him. Pity. Not remorse. Not sadness. Pity. Driving under influence (of many things, and she hadn't even wanted to know the extent of it) in a stolen car, the officer had said.
"His money?"
"He's in real debt, sir. The person who brought him in was a person he borrowed a huge amount of money from," the officer said sadly. All her money. Gone. What had she really expected, though?
"Any possessions?"
"Just the clothes on his back, and… er…. this," the officer held up a beer bottle cap. "But I doubt we can count that as a possession."
She had frowned at the hopefulness in Wilhelm's voice when he had seen her. Georg had been protective of her the minute he had seen her uncle, but Maria had assured him that everything was fine. Or perhaps, she would like to think that everything would be fine.
"Have you come to save me?" He had said, his voice small, as a child's. Maria only shook her head, watching as his eyes went terribly dark.
When Wilhelm was out of sight, Maria felt Georg squeeze her hand, and she squeezed it back – hard (she had to apologize later on, though he claimed it didn't hurt). She still didn't know what to feel.
"I'm sorry to inconvenience you at this time, ma'am, sir –" The officer said as he locked the gate.
"Oh, no, it's quite alright," she said somberly.
"It's just that your uncle was so sure that you would want to see him and bail him out."
"I'm quite sorry if I'm not as sympathetic as you're imagining, but I can't take it to be sympathetic to someone like him. I don't intend to bail him out," she gave him a small apologetic smile. "And if I'm not mistaken, he's wanted in many different places, no?"
"He is, ma'am."
"Then, it's best to leave him in your hands then."
"I really apologize for calling this late in the night, ma'am."
"It's quite alright. I find it better that he's here – perhaps being sober will do him some good. Perhaps it will be better for him… I don't really know," she scowled. "But I leave him in your hands now, officer."
"Rest assured that he will be in proper hands, ma'am."
She could only nod. Feeling slightly faint, she felt Georg's hand on her lower back, attempting to hold her a little steady. She was glad that he had been here with her.
"Well, er, is there anything else that must be done, officer?"
"Oh, no, sir. Everything is alright."
"Thank you, officer."
He slowly guided her to the door, and back to the car. Opening the door for her, then gently guiding her inside. She took a deep breath. Hearing the door close, and the seatbelt click, she turned to look at him.
"Georg, please take me home," she said softly.
He took her hand in his and he nodded.
10:14 p.m., Wednesday, Dormitory
He snuck glances at her the entire ride home to her place, yet she tried to appear as composed as ever. He knew better, though, and he knew that though she found herself attempting to feel unsympathetic towards her uncle, she was filled with swirling emotions. He knew how conflicted she was. Now that he was escorting her to her room, he wanted to hold her tight and simply be there for her.
"I'm sorry things didn't really go as planned," she smiled sadly as they reached her door.
"Well, for the most part, it did," he grinned. "The visit to the precinct was an adventure though," he laughed lightly.
"Yeah, an adventure. You insisted on a shortcut you claimed to know, and we got lost!" She shook her head, and she laughed – him laughing along with her.
There was a comfortable silence that came over them as their laughter quieted down. Her hand rested on her doorknob, key in the other hand, yet there was a part of him that wished she didn't need to. She searched his face – he could feel her eyes on him, questioning, thinking, searching, looking –
"What is it you wanted to ask me?" She asked, her voice small.
"Hmm?"
"At the gazebo… while we danced, you wanted to ask me something?"
Under the low light of the hallway, he could see her lip slightly quiver, and as he held his breath, she took his hand and settled it on her waist. With a small smile, she gently put a hand on his shoulder, and with her other hand, took his free hand in hers.
"What are you doing?" He chuckled softly.
"Turning back the clock… or at least I think I am," she smiled at him, then tucked her head under his chin.
Softly, she began to sing… and he recognized it as the song playing on the speaker as they danced in the gazebo.
I love you for sentimental reasons
I hope you do believe me
I'll give you my heart
"Maria," he said softly, his voice hushed into a whisper that even he strained to hear. Her singing stopped, yet the song continued in his mind.
"Yes?"
"I know the timing is off, and you need time… and there are so much more to be done, but I –"
He sighed. Why were the words so difficult to utter? Four words. Four. How could he not utter four simple words?
I love you and you alone were meant for me
Please give your loving heart to me, and say we'll never part
He continued to sway her to the beat, but he could feel her eyes burning, asking, questioning, longing, searching, looking –
"Marry me?"
Four words, down to two.
"Oh, Georg, darling – I…"
"I see."
He had anticipated it. This answer, or lack thereof. She would say no. He had anticipated it, yet the hesitation – everything – it had hurt more than he had expected. It truly did. He was about to open his mouth to say something but –
"Please let me explain," she gently put a finger to his lips and cupped his cheek. He would admit – though he had felt apprehensive, he trusted her more than anything. But fear. Yes, fear – "No, not yet. One day, perhaps," she gave him a small smile. "But.. oh, I don't know…"
She paused and cast her eyes down, and he merely stood there, eyebrows knitted, waiting for her to say something.
"I always thought that marriage wasn't my thing. Until I met you, that is. (he smiled briefly at that small bit) And in some ways, I still do think it. My aunt and uncle weren't the best example of marriage. And," she sighed loudly. "They were both heavily broken and problematic when they married, and they both had this heavy mindset of 'I can fix the other' and… it wasn't pretty. They constantly sought stability in the other when the other cannot stand on their feet. It led to problem after problem after problem and… Georg," she looked up at him, and he really did long to pull her close to him. "Seeing him reminded me that maybe… maybe I should find stability in myself first before I find stability in anything else. You're right, I do need time –"
"Maria –"
"Please, Georg, this doesn't – shouldn't change anything. I love you – with all my heart, and whether or not we're married, that will always remain. I want you to be by my side, and I want to be beside you, getting through storms and celebrating victories. I'm not marrying you, Georg, not now or even next year, or the year after that. But one day, I will – I hope I will, once we've sorted everything out. Once I've sorted myself out. And oh, please say something –"
"I would say something if you had breathed in between your words, love," he smiled softly, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I love you."
"Is that all you can say?" She asked defeatedly.
"Shouldn't I be saying that I love you?"
"But –"
"I'm saying I love you because I do. That in itself is a vow, Maria, and I do not take those words lightly – you know that. I say it because your happiness and your sadness, your hurts and worries, your triumphs and victories, your smile and everything matters to me, and I vow to carry and share it all with you. I vow to stay by your side and keep you close to me, to cherish you, to protect you, to listen to you, to be honest. I love you, and if you think that we should wait and sort things out, I agree – there are things we have to work out and smooth out individually and as a couple, and I understand. We'll work through everything together – hand in hand."
He pulled her close, and she rested her head on his chest. She was warm against him, and he allowed himself to close his eyes for a second.
"I love you, and whatever happens, I always will," he whispered.
"And you know I love you."
Silence. Breathing, swaying.
I think of you every morning, dream of you every night
Darling, I'm never lonely whenever you are in sight
"You know, I've always dreamed of a proposal in the hallway," she whispered. He could feel her shaking with laughter in his arms.
"Oh, shut it."
"Make me," she looked up at him, a sparkle in her eye.
"As you wish," he said, pressing his lips to hers.
Sealing their vow.
I love you for sentimental reasons
I hope you do believe me
I've given you my heart
*Some lyrics from Impossible; It's Possible from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella
*Max sings Hoagy Charmichael's Heart and Soul
*Song they dance to is (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons
A/N
Surprise!
Well, we know they're getting married anyways, so... And yes, it will be a girl ;) Also, this is twice as long as other chapters, but I hope you enjoyed this thing! I know that has been completed, but I just got fully vaccinated today, and I've literally been so giddy for the past weeks so this came about!
Sending warm hugs and schnitzel with noodles! Stay safe (and remember to still follow pandemic guidelines!)