The word to describe Georg in this very moment was agitated. He sat with his elbows perched on his mahogany desk, his chin resting on his clasped hands, and a glass of untouched brandy sitting in front of him. He was still as a rod; unable to move, unable to think clearly. He replayed dinner over in his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time since he left the table, over two hours ago.
He couldn't say that he was surprised that she was late to dinner. He'd even suspected before he had reached the dining table that she would, in fact, be late for dinner. He was actually grateful for the fact that she was so late. The more he focused on how much her tardiness agitated him, the less he focused on anything else about her. Unfortunately, his agitation could only distract him from so much.
When she had walked into the dining room, he had a hard time maintaining his composure. Gone were the paint stained jeans and the oversized t-shirt. She was wearing a light summer dress that complimented her in the best ways. Its color brought out her eyes and the material hugged her in all the right places. He tried very hard, but ultimately failed, to keep his eyes away from her long, creamy legs.
He cursed himself for looking at her. He was supposed to be indifferent, he wasn't supposed to notice how beautifully her dress complimented her. He cursed himself again for feeling attraction towards the woman. He was very glad to be leaving in the morning.
And then she had walked passed him and he caught that scent of lavender and vanilla he had smelt all those months ago, and he almost lost it. He wanted to walk out of the room and lock himself in his study to catch his breath until he could leave the house. His resolve was slowly crumbling, quite literally, before his eyes as she took the seat opposite of him.
He had hoped to be able to start his dinner and get the meal over with as quickly as possible. The sooner the meal was over, the sooner he could retreat to the solitude of his study where there wouldn't be any long legs or rosy lips to test his control.
But then he noticed her pray just before she started eating and the curiosity ate away at him. Was she religious? He hadn't known she was religious, but then again, he didn't know a lot about her besides her desire to travel and the taste of her lips. He shook his head at that last thought. He needed to stop thinking about her like that, he needed to stop thinking about her at all. She was just the governess until his children finally drove her way, and that's all there was to it.
He hadn't noticed he was staring until she caught his eye. For a split second, he tried to read what was going on behind those sky-blue eyes, but she quickly shifted her gaze to look anywhere but at him. He inwardly groaned. He shouldn't be looking at her at all. But his eyes lingered as he watched her take a forkful of the mixed vegetables into her mouth. He thought his self control was going to shatter then and there. He had averted his eyes quickly, willing his body to catch up with his mind. She is the governess, she has no importance to you other than to teach and watch over your children, he forced himself to recite in his mind.
He started eating, focusing on the food rather than on his thoughts. Every couple bites, he would take a sip of his wine, hoping it would calm his frenzied state of mind. Maybe this won't be so bad, he had thought to himself after a few moments of silence at the table. And then she had started talking.
Georg was used to silence during dinners in his home. His children didn't speak, likely not knowing what to say without causing him some annoyance. While it hurt his heart that he made them feel that way, he enjoyed the silence. He liked being able to enjoy a meal with no noise or distractions, he could focus solely on his food.
Maria obviously thought differently. She said some nonsense about the weather that made him groan and shoot a glare at her, silently willing her to be quiet. But she had kept talking. When he suggested that they eat in silence, she wasn't having it. There she was questioning his parenting again.
He was infuriated. To question his parenting was one thing, to question his parenting in front of his own children was completely unacceptable. Though, the war of words had ended abruptly when Liesl claimed illness. She had been doing that a lot lately, he reflected.
He thought it had been the perfect opportunity to change the subject and announce that he was leaving in the morning. What he had not expected, was his children's resistance to the idea and their embarrassing comments about Elsa being his girlfriend.
He knew Maria had heard the words and had been upset by them. She had avoided his eyes ever since Marta had revealed he had been seeing Elsa for a couple of years. He felt ashamed. He wanted to explain to Maria that it wasn't like that, that he wasn't like that.
He shouldn't care about hurting her, he thought, she was only an employee now, nothing more. But he did care for some obscure reason. He didn't want her thinking that he had taken advantage of her while he was committed to another. But that's pretty much what he had done. The rest of dinner, Georg had spent kicking himself for getting into such a mess. He tried to form the words to explain it to her, to justify what had happened.
He excused his children hoping that he could explain himself to her, but she had brushed him off. It was probably for the best. Explaining himself would have only addressed the situation, which neither of them really wanted to do. So, she walked away, leaving him sitting at the dinner table trying to figure out what had just happened.
He sat there for a few minutes until Franz had walked in, claiming he needed to dust. Georg was sure Franz didn't even know how to dust, at least not properly, but left the room with a nod.
The sound of thunder rumbling through the walls of the house was enough to shake him out of his reflection. Georg sighed heavily against his clasped hands as he felt his eyes grow heavy. He was tired of replaying the hurt he saw in her eyes as she retreated from the room. He was tired of feeling guilty.
He unclasped his hands and grabbed the glass of bourbon that sat in front of him. He brought the glass to his lips and swallowed the drink in one sip. Perhaps that would help distract his mind. He set the glass down on his desk, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the mahogany. He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his phone. He had a message from Elsa and a message from Max. He unlocked his phone to look at the messages. He opened Elsa's first.
Elsa: I can't wait to see you tomorrow xx. [Sent at 8:34 p.m.]
He cringed inwardly. Again, he had not thought of Elsa since before dinner. He needed to get his thoughts in order. He knew he should be thinking about seeing her tomorrow and spending a few days, or perhaps a few weeks, in her company. His fingers began to type out a response.
To Elsa: Me neither. Until tomorrow, though, sweet dreams. [Sent at 8:48 p.m.]
He smiled as he sent the text. Tomorrow he would be away from here, he would be away from her and he could focus solely on Elsa, the person he should be focusing on. He opened Max's message next.
Max: You should bring a couple bottles of that 1935 Bordeaux from your cellar for your visit. I'm afraid I've run Elsa dry. [Sent at 8:43 p.m.]
Georg rolled his eyes. Max hadn't been to his home in years, and yet he still ran Georg's cellar dry. It seemed that every time Georg went to visit, Max would request a couple bottles of some vintage of wine before Georg would start his commute. He made a mental note to grab a couple bottles in the morning before he left. Now, all he wanted to do was lay down in his bed and go to sleep. He felt completely and utterly drained after the excitement of the day, and he had to get an early start in the morning.
He stood from his chair, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He left his jacket and tie, which had long been discarded, on the back of his desk chair. As he did every night that he was home, he turned off the desk lamp, slid his laptop into the bottom drawer of his desk, turned off the lights, and locked the door to his study. It was a small but steady ritual that he took comfort in doing.
He made his way through the foyer, leisurely ascending the stairs, when he picked up a sound he hadn't heard in a very long time. For a moment he thought he must be imaging things but there it was again. It was the sound of children's laughter.
He stopped in his tracks and strained to hear. He could hear voices and laughter and singing. He checked his watch. It was nearly nine o'clock. No one should be up at this hour, let alone laughing and singing and causing a ruckus. A frown formed itself deeply on his features as he tried to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.
It sounded like they were coming from the governess's room.
He felt the agitation begin to boil in his blood as he took the stairs two at a time and made his down the corridor past the children's rooms. The door was ajar. As he peered in, what he saw equally shocked and confused him. Some of his children were perched on the bed, others were dancing around giggling, while the governess sang some ridiculous song about kittens and strudel. He couldn't see her, but he could hear her musical laugh as she made her way through the childish lyrics.
His heart hammered in his chest. He felt the blood pump furiously in his veins. Had he not told her that bedtime was not to be breached under any circumstances? He was sure he had. He took a step toward the room to give her a piece of his mind but stopped short when she came into view.
His blood ran cold in his veins. She was wearing a pair of shorts that ended high up on her thighs and tank top with thin straps. He let out an inaudible moan. This was complete and utter torture. He was stuck staring at her as if he had never seen a woman before. Flashes of creamy skin flitted about the room. Toned legs pranced about as she swayed his youngest daughter in her arms, before she carefully set her back down. The tank top was not entirely revealing, it was rather modest, but it showed enough to leave Georg's mouth unbearably dry.
For a moment he forgot about all sense. He just wanted to touch her, to feel if her skin was as soft as it looked. He wanted to see what she was hiding under that tank top. He wanted to send his children out of the room, lock the door, and pick up where they left off three months ago. He ran a hand down his face as he felt the heat prickle on his skin. What was he thinking? He should not be thinking about her like this, or at all for that matter.
He needed to stop this before he lost all of his control. He took a step into the room, revealing himself from the shadows. The children were the first to notice him. They all stopped their laughter and dancing. They froze, standing still as statues. But Maria seemed to be blissfully unaware of his presence, until she nearly toppled him over.
In the chaos of her dancing, she spun in his direction, only to notice he was standing there at the last second. She collided with him, hard. He felt her, quite literally, knock the breath from his lungs. Georg's hands instinctively went out to catch her and they landed on her hips. He choked back a groan when he felt his thumbs slide just barely under her tank top, making contact with a sliver of soft skin.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. She stood still, her eyes wide as she gaped at him, her cheeks darkening in hues of pick with each passing second. Her hands were rested on his upper arms to hold herself up. He was frozen in place, unable to move away as her torso grazed against his own. His entire body screamed. He wanted to pull her to him, to close the small distance between them, to have her flush against him, just to feel her.
His mind was racing with all the thoughts he had tried so hard to push away. His eyes were stuck on the sight of her parted lips. How easy it would be to just lean in and… No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He searched his brain for the very logical reasons he could not take his thoughts any further.
First off, he was leaving in the morning to see another woman, a woman he was as good as in a relationship with.
Second, he had sworn to forget about the situation. He had told himself repeatedly over the day that he would not think of her like that. He was her boss for goodness' sake. There were several circumstances that made it unethical and inappropriate to be attracted to her.
Lastly, and possibly strongest reason, his seven children were in the room staring at the two adults with wide eyes.
The thought of the children broke the spell that had been casted over his mind. He came here to send them back to their rooms, not to feel up their governess.
He inhaled deeply for the first time in what felt like hours before taking his hands off her hips and stepping back as if he had been burned. He did feel like his body was burning when her hands slipped off his arms in a lingering manner. He fought off an involuntary shudder.
"I thought I made the rules about bedtime clear," he muttered, his voice raspy. He looked back at his children. The youngest looked fearful, the boys stood straight, avoiding his eyes. Louisa and Liesl were looking at their feet, while Brigitta looked between her father and governess with a quizzical look. He cleared his throat.
"Go back to bed," he said, his voice coming out softer than he had intended. He cleared his throat again, hoping to regain control of his voice before he gave the insubordinate governess a piece of his mind. The children filed out of the room as quickly as they could to leave their governess to the repercussions. Georg spared a glance at Maria, who was looking at the closet doors next to her, her arms crossed over her chest in a failing attempt to cover herself.
"I did tell you that bedtime was at eight o'clock, with no exceptions, did I not?" He felt like he was repeating himself. He should have just left the room. He shouldn't have stayed. His body burned everywhere that he had been in contact with her. His arms burned, his chest was on fire, and his hands felt as if he had just held them on a hot stove top for an hour.
"You did," she replied, still not looking away from the direction of the closet. He felt the increasing need for her to look at him.
"And am I wrong in thinking that those instructions should be simple to follow?" He asked. At his question, her eyes wandered in his direction, but did not meet his. Her gaze stayed firmly on his chest. Her cheeks were still flushed, he noted.
"They are simple, sir. But the children were frightened by the storm. Surely you don't expect them to sit in their rooms, scared and alone?" she asked rhetorically. It was a trap. She was trying to trap him in this verbal spar. He wasn't going to take it. He couldn't let her win. She had nearly torn down his control in a matter of a minute, and he needed it back.
"As I told you this afternoon, Ms. Rainer, discipline is a pillar in this household. I expect you to follow the rules that I set out, as that is what you are getting paid to do." He was staring straight at her when her eyes met his.
"Yes, sir," was all she said back to him, likely hoping that he would leave. He knew he should, he knew that was a signal to the end of the conversations, but his traitorous feet wouldn't move. His legs felt like jelly.
"I do hope that when I return, the rules of my house will be followed by everyone under my roof," he said. He didn't know why he was prolonging such a painful conversation. It wasn't doing him any good, especially looking at her while she was dressed like that.
"I'll do my best, Captain," she replied noncommittally. He narrowed his eyes. Somehow, he felt that her best would still not being adhering to his rules.
"Good," he said as he forced his feet to move. He turned on his heel, ready to make his way out the door when he remembered something. He was leaving Aigen for God knows how long and he had no way to contact her directly. She was caring for his children, and if anything were to happen, he would want to know about it. He sighed and turned back to face her. "There is something I forgot to do earlier."
"What's that?" she asked, looking down at her bare feet. He shifted from foot to foot, his eyes flickering around the room.
"I, uh, I need to put my phone number in your phone," he muttered, rubbing his palm at his neck. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, wide as saucers. "Just in case there's an emergency with the children. It doesn't happen often, but if one of them gets sick or hurt or something happens, I would rather you had a way to contact me."
She eyed him carefully as if trying to determine that what he was saying was true. He shifted again under her scrutiny. After a moment, she let out a small sigh and turned her back to him to reach over to the nightstand table. He shifted his eyes to look at the ceiling to avoid his gaze lingering on her backside. You really aren't making this easy, are you? he thought heavenward.
She picked up her phone, unlocked it, and handed it to him before crossing her arms over her chest again. He opened her contacts and began to add his number, not even bothering adding a contact name. He wasn't sure how to put himself in her phone. Would he put himself as Georg? Or Captain? He wasn't sure, so he decided to let her set his contact name. Though he had a sneaky feeling the name she was going to set for him wouldn't be at all nice.
"There," he said, handing her phone back to her. He was careful not to accidentally touch her hand as he did so. "Please only use it for emergencies."
"Yes, sir," she said but he caught the little eye roll she gave him. He thought about saying something, but he would rather not prolong the awkwardness any further than he had already. He nodded curtly and walked to the door, gripping the door knob.
"Goodnight, Ms. Rainer," he said for the second time that night.
"Goodnight, Captain," she muttered back. He gave her one final glance before closing the door. Hearing the click, he let out a breath. He stood outside her door for a moment, trying to shake off the uneasiness that was prominent in his chest.
The encounter they had just shared was unsettling to him. He had touched her again, and he felt as if her skin had burned right through his hands. His raised a hand to his face, flexing his fingers as he did so. It looked completely normal. But then why did he feel his skin tingle where he had touched her?
He shook his head and focused on drawing in breath. His lungs felt tight, he felt as if the air was being sucked right from his chest. He swept his shaking hand through his hair before lowering back down to his side. He just needed to go to bed.
Quickly, he walked back to his room, which was on the far end of the corridor. Once he was in his own room, he let his body relax. His shoulders lowered, releasing the tension that had built in them during the unsettling encounter. He just had to get through the night, and then he would be gone. He would be out of the house. He wouldn't have to see Maria. He would be able to find some peace, with some luck.
He stripped out of his shoes and socks before removing his shirt, belt, and pants. He grabbed his phone and keys from his pocket and placed them on the bedside table before throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper. He sat on the edge of his bed and ran a hand over his face, desperately willing his arms to stop shaking. His phone lighting up next to him caught his attention.
He looked at the screen. It said that he had a text, but he didn't recognize the number. He unlocked his phone and opened the message.
Unknown Number: A word of advice, next time knock if you want to avoid getting run into. [Sent at 9:13 p.m.]
This time, Georg did groan aloud. Had he not just told her to only use his number during emergencies? She was contradicting him at every turn, and it infuriated him. But what was worse, was it also aroused him to some degree. The wanting in his body only increased when she defied him. Each time she did the opposite of what he told her, he wanted to show her in the best possible way, that breaking his rules led to consequences.
He placed his phone down on his bedside table with a little more force than necessary before sliding under the silk sheets. He prayed that he would be able to find sleep. He prayed that he wouldn't have another dream to torture him, if only just for one night.
He should have known he wouldn't be so lucky.
Maria woke with the sun, as she had done everyday since she was a little girl. Upon opening her eyes to the early sun rays drifting through the window, her body sat up with a start as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Her mind calmed after a second when she where she was, only to unsettle again once the memories of the previous day washed over her.
Everything came back to her all at once; the giant house she was now living in, the children she was responsible for, and the cold man under the same roof whose image had left her tossing and turning in her bed for half of the night. She frowned at the memories of the night before.
She had gone to her room after her conversation with Mrs. Schmidt and began unpacking immediately, letting the task at hand control her thoughts. She took more care in putting her things away than she had ever done before, if only to prolong an activity in which she could focus on.
When everything was neatly put away, she changed into her pajamas. The room was warm, so she chose a pair of shorts and a tank top. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyhow, right? She was very wrong about that fact.
Not too long after she had settled under her blankets with a book in her hand, a small figure had bolted into her room with excessive force. Maria had looked up bewildered to find Gretl standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with fear. Just as Maria was about to ask what was wrong, the boom of thunder echoed through the room. That answered her question. The girl was afraid of thunderstorms.
Maria had let Gretl pop up next to her, not seeing the harm. She wasn't about to send a frightful five-year-old girl back to her room to be by herself. It wasn't long after Gretl had climbed up next to Maria that the rest of the children made an entrance, all seemingly discomforted by the raging storm outside.
To say Maria was surprised that all seven of them had chosen to come to her in their fearful states was an understatement. After the dead fish and the awkward dinner, she was sure she would be the last person to go to. But, she reflected, they didn't really have anyone else. Maria couldn't see Georg opening his arms to his children while they cowered from the storm.
Only Liesl seemed to be in a calm state. Although, Maria noticed, her hair looked damp, as if she had recently come in contact with water. She could have just taken a shower, but Maria had her suspicions that the girl had may have gotten caught in the rain after her hasty exit from dinner, possibly with a boy. She would have to ask her about it later.
She allowed the children to sit up with her on the bed as she tried to tell them stories to calm their minds. When that hadn't worked, she turned to song. Her father had always sung to her when she was afraid, and it made her feel infinitely better. The children were receptive at first and before long, they had smiles on their faces as they watched their new governess prance around the room.
It wasn't until she collided with something hard that everything went to hell.
Of course, it was Georg. Of course, he had come to catch her in the act of breaking his ridiculous rules. It was just her luck, after all. But all train of thought was wiped from her mind when his hands came to rest on her hips to steady her and his blue eyes pierced through her.
His state of dress surprised her above all else. His jacket and tie had disappeared, leaving him in just a pair of dark grey slacks and a crisp white shirt. The top few buttons had been undone, exposing a bit of his chest. Maria's mouth went dry when she spotted the chest hairs peeking through.
It had felt like she was stuck frozen for hours as his hands branded her skin, leaving her face hot and flushed. But as quickly as he had caught her, he was pulling away with lightening speed to address his children and dismiss them.
The rest of their encounter was fuzzy to Maria. Her mind had felt clouded after being in such close proximity to him. She only briefly remembered his scolding and asking to put his number in her phone. She had been reluctant when he asked for her phone, but instantly felt silly. It wasn't as if he wanted to talk to her, he just wanted to be sure she could contact him if something happened with the children while he was away.
Looking into his eyes in that moment, she saw, for the first time, a man who cared about his children's well-being. The care she saw in his eyes was enough to make her give in.
After he put in his number, he made a hasty exit and Maria was thankful for that fact. She wasn't sure how much longer she could have been in the room with him before a piece of her began to break.
Once he had left, she looked down at her phone that was still open in her hands. He hadn't put a contact name in. She pondered for a moment about what the most appropriate name to put him under would be. She decided on a simple 'Captain' before saving the number.
Her minded had raced afterwards as she could still smell his earthy cologne in the room. It blurred her vision. Looking back down at the contact, she realized that he didn't have her number. What if there was an emergency and she called him, but he didn't pick up because he didn't recognize the number? How would that help anyone?
She huffed as she sat down on the edge of her bed, typing out a message. She went through many variations of what to sent.
It's Maria, just so you have my number too.
Have fun in Vienna.
You're an ass.
She quickly decided that she didn't like any of these options, although she came within seconds of sending the last one. She didn't want to make it sound awkward, not that she should really care what she sounded like when texting him. She certainly wasn't going to make a habit out of it. After another moment of contemplation, her fingers acted on their own accord.
A word of advice, next time knock if you want to avoid getting run into.
She hit send before she could stop herself. She willed her mind not to think about having sent a text to him. She groaned before turning out the lights and rolling over to try and get some sleep. It would not be a restful night.
As Maria now sat up in her bed, the sun filtering through in a pink haze, she reached next to her to pick up her phone. It was nearly six thirty. She had enough time to make some tea before she had to get the children up for breakfast. Yes, some tea would hopefully calm her mind a little.
She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the bed, stretching briefly before getting up. She grabbed her robe from inside the bathroom and slipped it on before making her way out the door.
She descended the stairs lazily, covering her mouth as a yawn escaped her. She really wished she had been able to sleep more. Damn Georg for intruding her thoughts.
She moved down the hall, past the dining room and walked into the spacious kitchen. It was quite a beautiful kitchen; white cabinets lined the walls, all the appliances were a dark grey hue, and there was a beautiful long island that stood in the middle of the room. It had to be the most beautiful kitchen that Maria had every been in. the beauty was only highlighted by the orange and pink rays of sunlight bouncing off the marble counter tops.
She had only been in the kitchen once, briefly as Mrs. Schmidt had showed her around, so she started rummaging through the cupboards for cups. She found a cabinet full of all different kind of cups; fine china teacups, large ceramic mugs, and plenty of worn looking travel mugs. She spotted a large light blue mug and pulled it down. She didn't want to risk using one of the fine china teacups.
She flicked on the switch for the kettle that sat next to the stove and left her mug next to it. Now all she had to do was find the tea. She wasn't entirely sure where it would be kept. Mrs. Schmidt had told her she was welcome to anything in the kitchen but had not specified where anything was. She opened a few more cupboards but had no luck.
She stood with her hands on her hips, eyes scanning the kitchen. The room was so large in size with so many different cupboards and cabinets that, at this rate, she could still be looking for tea by lunchtime.
She heard the steady echoes of someone's shoes clicking against the floor towards the kitchen. The sound made her jump. Someone was going to find her in the kitchen, clad only in her pajamas and robe, futilely searching the kitchen for tea. She looked heavenward and prayed that, of all people, it wasn't Georg who was going to find her. But of course, it was.
He paused in the doorway with a startled look on his face as he looked her up and down. It was as if he was trying to figure out if she was really there. He was already dressed for the day in a light grey suit, his hair immaculately slicked back, not a strand out of place. She wanted to roll her eyes at how put together he was at six-thirty in the morning. It was rather annoying. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide the state of undress she was in, once again in his presence.
"I was, um, just looking for some tea," she mumbled quietly. She wasn't sure why she was explaining herself to him, but she felt the compelling need to justify her presence in the kitchen. She watched him nod before stepping further into the kitchen, pulling open a drawer in the island behind her.
"I was just about to make some myself, for the road," he replied coolly, avoiding her eyes as he pulled out two tea bags. He shuffled behind her to get to the cupboard to grab a travel mug. She felt his chest graze against her back as he stepped behind her and she had to fight the involuntary shiver that threatened to run down her spine.
He pulled out a dark blue travel mug that looked as if it had seen better days and sat it down next to hers before taking a step back to lean against the counter. The slow boil of the water was the only sound in the room. Maria shifted awkwardly, staring down at her feet, unsure of what to do or say in the moment. The had pretty much been at each other's throats the previous day. What could you say to someone that you desperately want to throttle?
"I hope you slept well," his voice cut through the quiet. She carefully glanced up at him to find him looking out the kitchen window, watching the sunrise. The morning light beamed on his face and the warm glow made him look even more handsome.
"I did. Did you?" she asked as politely as she could. It was far too early to begin an argument, so if he wanted to make polite conversation while they were both stuck waiting for the water to boil, she would indulge him. It was easier than a silence in where her thoughts could get the best of her.
He shifted his eyes to hers. She couldn't read what was behind those blue irises, though she found herself desperately wanting to know what he was thinking. The way his hands gripped the counter top and the stiffness in his jaw made him seem on edge. She wondered why.
"Yes. That is, after the storm calmed down a little." She watched his fingers flex against the marble. The silence settled over them again, leaving her only with the unnerving thoughts that entered her mind anytime she looked at him. The thoughts were mainly of throttling him, but some thoughts took her back to three months ago, outside that nightclub. No, she certainly couldn't be thinking of that, not wile she was here in the kitchen with him.
"Well, I hope the drive is nice," she said awkwardly. She cringed a little at the unnatural tone of her voice. What was it about him that made her unable to have a normal conversation?
"Hm? Oh, yes. It usually is. Just long," he replied distractedly as he turned his attention back to the window. The click of the kettle told Maria that the water was finally done boiling. She stepped toward the kettle, placing a teabag in her cup. She knew she should just get her tea ready and leave, there was not much else that could be said between them. But the comment that escaped her lips could not be stopped.
"Your girlfriend must be rather special if you're willing to make such a journey so often." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his entire body tense at her words as he brought his attention back to her.
"I don't think that's any of your business." Gone was the polite tone of his voice. Now she heard the dangerous, gruff voice she had received all of the day before. She scoffed as she poured the water into her cup.
"No, I suppose its not," she breathed out. And it wasn't, not truly. She had no business in his personal life. She just felt this overwhelming need to provoke him about it. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. An explanation? She didn't really want one, she didn't need one. She understood that men would, at times, feel unsatisfied with their partner and decide to have an affair of sorts. Women did it too, she knew. Maria just had never understood why and she felt immense guilt and anger at the thought that she had been used like that.
"I don't know what you think you know about me, but you have no right to question my affairs. I am your employer, not your friend," he spat. Obviously, she had struck a nerve.
"Oh yes, you've made that quite clear," She laughed dryly, scooping a spoonful of sugar into her tea.
"Not clear enough, apparently," he muttered under his breath, but Maria heard it. She shook her head at her tea.
"Oh, don't worry, Captain. I have no illusions that we are or ever could be friends. Yesterday was proof enough of that fact," she shot back, looking up at him for the first time since she had made the comment. He was looking right back at her with a scowl on his face.
"Are you saying you've been treated unfairly?" he asked. His eyes were very dark now, she could barely see his pupils.
"No, just not warmly," she replied with a shrug. She looked back at her tea, swirling her spoon around the warm liquid.
"I hate to break it to you, but that's how the real world works. It's not always rainbows and sunshine," he told her, averting his gaze back to the window. She looked back up for a split second and could see the pain etched into his features. He must be thinking of his wife. Her heart fell. She instantly regretted provoking him. As much as he infuriated every fiber of her being, she didn't want to bring up the pain of the memories that came with his wife. It seemed utterly unfair.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything," she said, her tone much softer than it had been. She stared down into the steaming mug of tea. Her fingers wrapped around the cup and she revelled in the warmth against her hands. It was a nice contrast to the coldness in the air between them.
"It's fine," he sighed as his fingers gripped the edge of the counter. She gave a small nod before turning from him, carrying her mug. She needed to leave before she made anything worse between them, not that she was sure it could get worse.
"But Ms. Rainer," his voice stopped her. His tone was gentle and for a second, she was reminded of the Georg she had met three months ago, the one with the warm voice and kind presence. She looked back over her shoulder to find his eyes on her, burning a path into her soul. "for your information, Elsa is not my girlfriend."
Maria's head spun. What had he just said? She found herself staring at him with wide eyes and quickly looked away. She stood for a moment, catching her breath before walking out of the kitchen. She felt as if she were sleeping walking as she headed back to her room.
He wasn't in a relationship? Then why had Mrs. Schmidt been so adamant that his was going to propose by the end of the summer? Was he lying? She couldn't see the motive of him lying to her about that. He wasn't gaining anything by lying to her.
Then again, why did he tell her in the first place? He had just made it very clear that she was his employee. It shouldn't matter to her if he was in a relationship or not. But still, he had told her and the information had filled her with a sense of relief. She didn't want to be relieved that he wasn't in a relationship, she wanted not to care at all. But for some inexplicable reason, she had felt her heart lift a little for the first time since dinner the previous night. She was afraid to ask herself why.
However, one thing was sure, that one statement would haunt Maria for weeks to come.
A/N: I really hope you liked this chapter. I thought about splitting it up, but I'd rather give you one long chapter than two short chapters.
I had a lot of fun writing this one. I'm really enjoying playing around with the characters in a modern world. As always, your reviews have made me smile and have inspired me to no end. Hopefully, sometime soon I'll get around to actually replying to all of your lovely reviews. I thank everyone who has taken the time to read this.
I meant to mention this earlier, but I forgot. The title comes from a Sam Smith song of the same name. I'd highly recommend checking it out.