"Fraülein."

She knew for sure it was him, even if he hadn't said anything, she knew. She knew he was the only one who could be here at this moment. It was as if some invisible force was guiding her, she could feel him with every fibre of her being.

Captain.

She turned around, slowly, as if in a dream, already feeling the tears stinging her eyes. He was standing there, his hand lingering on the doorknob.

He wasn't wearing gloves.

How she wanted to feel his skin, feel his warmth.

The thought hurt her, and she felt her stomach clench into a knot. Her eyes began to sting from the unshed tears that had been lurking behind her eyes for so many days. She was afraid she would cry in front of him. She didn't want him to see it. She wouldn't give him that pleasure.

Was there anything more humiliating? She thought not.

Standing here in front of him was torture. He was looking at her again in a way no one had ever looked at her before. His gaze caressed her, something so forbidden and wrong. In that moment, she seemed to feel his strong arms around her waist again, pulling her closer and closer to him, even though he was so far away from her.

Maria opened her mouth, wanting to say something to him, but no words came out. What could she say at that moment, in fact, she could only shout at him, waiting for answers to questions she didn't know she had. He wouldn't be able to explain the feelings raging inside her.

She took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Her head was spinning. Why was the room suddenly so short of air? It was as if the room had shrunk with his arrival; he had swallowed up the space, filling every corner.

Unreadable and intimidating. That's how she would describe him now. Here, the captain stood there, since his arrival he seemed not to have moved at all.

Maria had to admit, when she'd come here, she'd been afraid and at the same time hopeful that he'd come for her. But even then, she didn't think about what would happen next. When he would find her. Part of her was torn with longing, wanting to cling to him, to touch him again, to stay in his arms. The other, more rational part of her was screaming at her to run, to hide.

She had to leave now, no matter how much it hurt her, she had to.

Just like that, with determination, she took the first step towards the door.

"Let me pass," she didn't look at him, staring angrily at the floor.

He let out something like a stifled groan, as if he hadn't expected her to speak to him. In truth, Georg didn't know what awaited him behind that closed door when he followed her, he only knew that once he opened it he would never be able to close it again. She seemed so unhappy, so forsaken, that all he wanted to do was to draw her to him, to hold her in his arms.

"No," his voice sounded rougher than he wanted it to, he didn't want to scare her, not now, "you know perfectly well we need to talk," he spoke the second part of the sentence almost in a whisper, it made her even angrier for some reason. He saw a million emotions sweep across her beautiful face. She blinked angrily a couple of times.

Maria finally dared to look up, wishing she looked intimidating rather than frightened:

"You want to talk," she swallowed hard, she thought he just enjoyed taunting her, "about what? " she stepped even closer, her chest heaving frantically with every breath she took, his little warrior, "I want to remind you, Captain," she spat out his title with such unconcealed anger, "every time you and I talk to you, start discussing something important, you abruptly chase me away, wish me to disappear," she was furious, raging, her voice beginning to shake, from impenetrable tears, but she wasn't going to give up not now, "I'll spare us both such unpleasant conversations," she took another step, "let me pass."

He was silent. He squinted his eyes, studying her face as if preparing for an attack. The fingers on his hands twitched nervously.

Now he's going to start screaming, ran through her mind. She was preparing for a massive fight. Now all the guests would hear him reprimand the governess and chase her away. Memories of their quarrel by the lake flashed sharply through her mind.

But a second passed, and there was still no scream. She waited for a while longer. Nothing. The clock ticked quietly on the wall. Time passed, but he didn't seem angry; on the contrary, there was a strange sort of smile on his face.

He laughed at her.

Here she stands, talking to him in all seriousness, and in return, all she gets is his crooked grin and that strange look.

How dare he. It was immoral to stand there listening to her words and then just mock her feelings like that.

Now she was really angry. She took a quick, confident step toward the door.

I'll knock him down if I have to.

She wasn't afraid of him. She wanted him to realise it.

She wouldn't be intimidated by his suggestive looks, or his gentle hands, or his beautiful eyes.

The Captain continued to stand there as if frozen, not a single muscle of his body trembling as the little governess approached him very quickly.

She needed to get away, Maria felt this wild need for solitude. She needed to run away, to hide, to hide anywhere but here. The thoughts overwhelmed her with renewed vigour, she couldn't bear it all. She must leave. But he still stood at the door like a living statue, the most insurmountable obstacle in her way.

She came dangerously close. A moment, and her hand fell forcefully on his hand, still clutching the doorknob. Like an electric shock. She froze. Her eyes found his. They stared at each other, neither of them about to move, time stopped, and all that mattered now were two frantically beating hearts.

And then, in that moment, Georg did the bravest, most desperate act of his life.

Maria didn't know what had happened or how it happened, in an instant she was trying to escape, oh God, she tried. And then.

Then he was already pressing her against the door. His hands gripped her shoulders with force. She was sure he'd leave bruises. It doesn't matter. It was sweet agony. And then his lips covered hers.

She didn't realise how it had happened, but to tell the truth, at that moment she didn't care at all. Her thoughts swam, nothing made sense now. Only his strong arms, and his intoxicating scent, enveloped her like a warm blanket. He was kissing her. She thought she would die right here and now, crumble to dust at his feet. How had they ended up in this position?

Georg's thoughts at the moment were not much different from the girl beneath him.

He hoped, no, he wanted to find her here. Wanted to talk, to explain himself, to explain the situation between them. Hell, after that dance, he knew he should have said something. But here beneath him, she was so gorgeous. How could he resist something like that.

God, I'm going to hell.

He didn't care, though. All that mattered now were the soft, inexperienced lips that tried to respond to his frantic kisses. He should have let her go, but how could he when she was so sweet, her soft moans caressing his ears and her small hands clutched at the lapels of his jacket.

I wonder if anyone has ever kissed her before.

He moved his hands from her shoulders, running them into her honeyed hair, touching her neck, stroking her back. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to feel her whole, completely.

He didn't know how long they stood there, the moments seemed endless. He couldn't give up so easily. All summer long he had desired her, imagining how he would kiss, touch, bite every inch of her. And yet none of his fantasies would ever compare to reality.

"Maria, Maria, my Maria," he whispered as his skilful lips showered her face with millions of kisses as light as a feather.

He moved lower, the soft skin of her neck like sugar beneath his lips.

She still wouldn't let go of his jacket, as if afraid he'd pull away if she loosened her grip.

He didn't mind.

Georg lifted his head, pulling his lips away from her flawless skin, though not willingly, just to look at her. There she was in front of him, her eyes closed, her face blurred in bliss, her mouth slightly swollen with kisses.

She was perfect. His treasure.

His.

Never in his life had he felt such a lively and wild need for someone. Never had he been haunted by such intoxicating feelings. Her lashes fluttered, and a moment later a pair of blue eyes were staring at him. She looked at him with such longing and tenderness.

How he wanted to say something to her, so many words needed to be voiced, and yet, none of his statements would sound appropriate right now. It was as if he couldn't find the words to describe the whole situation.

And even so, what would he say?

Apologise to her. For what? Apologise for not daring to kiss her earlier. Apologise for not daring to touch her before.

For once, Captain von Trapp didn't know what to say.

Carefully, as if afraid to frighten her, Georg wrapped his hands around her face, stroking her cheeks gently with his thumbs. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly to the side, pressing harder against his touch.

Never in her life had nobody been so gentle with her, it was the highest degree of bliss.

She was afraid it would be over too soon. She realised that this might be the only time she would ever be this close to someone.

And so Maria was the next to lean in, once again demanding kisses.

This time it was different, they took their time. It was slow and smooth, like a fog. Gently, so tenderly. If they and their actions could turn into anything, she thought, they would turn into mountain streams and fields. Something so dear to her heart. Maria hesitantly raised her hand, touching his face. He was warm, his cheek was both soft as dandelion fluff and sharp as rose thorns. She ran her fingertips along his cheekbone, as if trying to memorise his outline, it'll stay with her, get under her skin.

Could she have ever hoped to touch his face like that?

After a moment, she felt him run his tongue along her bottom lip. Like red-hot velvet. Like luring her in. Next thing she knew, she opened her lips slightly, and that was enough for his skilful tongue to sneak inside. The shameful pleasure she derived from it. Captain tasted like the champagne and mint, but also something manly, peculiar to him alone.

Oh, Lord.

She knew their actions were a sin. But she also knew if he stopped she would die. Never in her life had anything felt so right as what they were doing now.

No one had ever kissed her before. And if all kisses felt like this, she understood why people had dedicated so many paintings and poems to it. There were warm rays of light streaming through her from the inside out, and she was sure she was glowing where he'd placed his kisses.

Somewhere in the midst of his gentle lips and insistent hands Maria's thoughts began to swirl with the conversation of the two maids who had the other day discussed, quite loudly, that the captain was going to propose to the baroness at the party.

Why else would he call half of Salzburg to his house, Gerta?

He had to do it.

But in that moment, their tongues fought a battle she was sure she would lose. Maria's mind abruptly changed its course, with only one thing spinning in her head. Only one, wicked, shameful but pleasant thought flashed through her mind: he is with me now, not the Baroness, he is not touching the Baroness as he is touching me now.

He wants me.

It could have been her thoughts, or his hands on her waist, but she felt a guttural moan slide down her throat, something primal, something so beautiful.

Maria was sure he would swallow her whole, she would dissolve into him as a raindrop dissolves into the sea. She was stupefied by him, drunk on his actions. But what would happen when it all stopped? She knew that the good things in her life often came to an end very quickly. She was afraid that a moment more would pass and he would leave her. He'd dismiss and ignore her just as he had in the lobby a few minutes (or maybe hours) ago.

As if hearing her musings, the captain pulled away. He was breathing hard, just as she was, his neatly styled hair slightly dishevelled, a few strands loose, falling across his forehead. She fought the urge to run her fingers through them.

The eyes that normally seemed as blue as the sky to Maria were now blacker than night, staring at her with such intensity. It was obscene, but she couldn't look away. He ran his fingers over her swollen lips, the ghostly kiss still lingering there, and she realised that in that moment she was living only by his touch.

One of his hands rested on her waist, the other gently stroking her face. What could be more beautiful than that.

Georg blinked a few times as if gathering his thoughts, his gaze focused on his finger still covering her lip.

How beautiful she was.

He covered her mouth greedily again, and for herself in that minute she made a horrifying discovery.

If he wanted to, she'd stay with him.

With him and his children.

She wouldn't mind, it was the only way. That's what happens, isn't it, if it was...love.

It could have been love, couldn't it?

She didn't know. But if love was the desire to die in the arms of another person, if love was the selfless desire to be with someone, then yes, it was love.

She loved him.

Her uncle's voice echoed in her head:

Your mother was a slut, and you'll be the same. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

She held in her mind only fragments of that distant image of her mother. Like drops of paint blurring across a canvas into vague but bright and warm patterns. She associated her mother with wildflowers, guitar songs, and late-night dancing. She barely remembered her mother face, but she seemed to have long brown hair. She also had a pleasant voice. And she loved her daughter very much.

But she also remembered the cruel gossip that spread like a plague.

A the girl is being raised by her mother, but where's the father? Born out of wedlock.

Her mother taught her never to pay attention to what evil tongues were saying behind her back: "remember Maria, there is no shame in love. Love is a beautiful gift, you brought it into this world with you, you are my living proof of love."

On the day of her death, Maria's uncle said that this was God's way of punishing his sister's sinful soul, and when Maria asked him what that sin was, he only looked at her and whispered threateningly: you.

She realised now that she had been doing the same thing as her mother had done years ago. Committing the same sin as her mother. She had been willing to give the man in front of her everything she had without asking him for anything in return. And Maria was terrified of the hopelessness. Here, in his arms, with his kisses on her lips, she felt safe.

But if it was sin, why did her heart sing?

But she also realised that as soon as they left the room, everything would go back to the way it was. The man who was giving her so much warmth and happiness would turn back into a cold statue. While their tongues were intertwined like ivy, his hands squeezing her in all the right places, Maria couldn't help but think of one thing: how many more caresses and kisses she would endure before he ordered her to leave.

She felt his hand move over and cover her breast. She aghast, such a primitive gesture. It felt so good.

She really was a sinful lecher. She shouldn't enjoy it.

The Captain's lips flicked away from hers again, finding some mysterious spot behind her neck that made her want to cry and squirm at the same time. Maria gulped greedily for air, she couldn't catch her breath, she couldn't get enough.

She didn't know what prompted her next act, but she felt her own palm cover his, "you feel my heart beating, Captain" her own voice sounded alien, as if it wasn't her speaking at all. The blood pounded wildly in her ears, "it's beating for you."

He covered her lips again. Georg didn't want her to speak now, he was afraid of what she might say, what he might say.

Those feelings that he'd identified all summer as infatuation and lust had, at some unknown moment, turned into something beautiful. He wanted her, but not in the way he'd thought before. No. He wanted to protect her, wanted to hide her from the world, keep her safe from harm.

He loved her.

With a growl, he pulled her even closer, even though it no longer seemed possible. His hands caressed her inexorably, his lips tormented her. He couldn't let her go. Not when everything seemed so simple and magical.

His hands seemed to know their way. They travelled lower, grazing her ribs, then lower to her stomach, then lower still, lower still, lower still, until finally they were hidden deep beneath her skirt. His fingers touched the skin of her thigh that her stockings did not cover.

Like liquid fire, Maria thought.

The gentle movements of his fingers on her thigh. She'd never thought that anything could make someone fall completely to someone else's power. Now she knew she'd do anything he asked of her if he promised to touch her like this again.

The capinata's lips descended again on that sweet spot on her neck, and it was at that moment that the most adorable, sweetest moan he had known so far came out of the little Fräulein's mouth. It was too intoxicating.

And it was too loud.

He covered her mouth with the palm of his hand with force. One of his hands rested under her skirt, the other overed her mouth. The realisation that anyone could have caught them at that moment hit him under the breath.

Anyone could have caught them.

Captain seduces the governess.

Guilt swept over him with such force, he could have sworn he felt it physically. The realisation of what he was about to do to this innocent girl came over him like a wave.

Maria looked at him with frightened eyes.

Their intermittent breathing was the only sound in the room. Georg's eyes focused on his palm, still pressed against the lips he'd kissed just a few moments ago. Slowly he removed his hand from her face. Her lips were slightly open.

The most mesmerising picture in the world.

The captain's face changed dramatically, all that tenderness and adoration slipping from his face. He became a stern, closed man again.

Maria didn't dare move; she had no choice but to watch, to wait while he adjusted his suit and tried to smooth his hair. That's how it ended.

That's how it was supposed to end. She wasn't allowed to have more than what she had now. A few minutes at the door of his library. A fleeting surge of emotion.

Something in her broke. There was no anger or rage, just a sense of her own worthlessness and pity. He did not look at her, as if he were ashamed of what he had done.

Maria wondered what would happen next; would he let her stay until the end of the summer? It occurred to her that the worst punishment for her now would be if he sent her back to the Abbey. She was sure she would burn alive as soon as she steps through the gate.

He paused for a second, still unable to look at her, he opened his mouth, trying to say something sensible. Comfort her. Explain himself.

In his head, he was screaming. A storm was raging inside him. The words he so desperately wanted to say to her. As simply as if they were written on a beemag: "I am not worthy of you, Maria. I am a mere mortal, but you are my angel, my beacon, my light, my hope. You lead me through the darkness, lighting my way with every word and look. Just like you told me, my heart, from now on and forever, it will beat only for you. Every breath I take, from now on, belongs to you. Now I have no control over my own life, but it belongs to you." But the words never came. They stood in silence. Each unable to look at the other.

Maria stood there, lower lip clamped between her teeth. So much had happened in that evening. No. So much had happened over the months.

She would never be the same, he'd left his imprint on her. His golden mark. Her heart was permeated by him, permeated by his children, like a large blanket woven from a million little pieces, it enveloped her completely, covering and warming her all summer long.

It had started slowly. Something had begun between them, blossomed like a flower unseen in the world, and had grown into something neither of them could explain.

That meeting in the library, all those kisses, were only words they had not had time to utter. All those kisses were projections of the lingering glances they had given each other. All their caresses and moans, the hours spent apart.

A need for intimacy.

Something Georg didn't want to admit to himself. Something Maria had never experienced before.

For years he hid from the world. Hiding like a hermit. Chased away anyone who tried to show him a little love and warmth. He reveled in his grief, slowly killing himself, slowly withdrawing from his children. Wouldn't let anyone see the real him. Only because he thought that part of him had died with her. But it was alive, this part of his soul was standing right in front of him now, waiting for him with its big, inexperienced eyes.

For years she found solace from the outside world only within the walls of the convent. Hiding from people, afraid they would hurt her. Thinking she was unfit for the outside world. A black sheep. An eternal wanderer who never found rest for her soul. Wouldn't let anyone see the real her. Only because she thought that part of her didn't exist. But it was alive, this part of her soul now stood crumpled before her, looking at her sadly, as if afraid to believe what had happened between them.

So what now?

Everything seemed simple when his lips were captive to hers. When his hands dissolved on her smooth skin.

She should have known, should have fought him one last time. The question came out of her like a wild bird, flying free, fluttering across the room, bouncing off the soft light of the lamps, and into his ears.

"You want me to leave?" she asked quietly, afraid that she might know the answer in advance. Afraid he'd remember who she was. The spell of the night would fall, and he would realise she wasn't the one he was meant to be with.

"No," he spoke softly, she had to strain to hear him.

"You want me to stay here with you?" the question hangs in the air. Her eyes searched for him as ships search for a lighthouse on a troubled night.

Please answer me. Take this weight off my shoulders. Don't torture me anymore.

How she longed to have him near her again, to have him pressed against her again. Covered her like the clouds cover the sky. Pressed their lips together again, teaching her the tenderness he'd shown only to her. But he wouldn't go near her.

How long had they been standing there? she was wondering. Maria was about to repeat her question, hoping that maybe he hadn't heard her, too distracted by something, when she was interrupted.

"Georg, Georg dear are you here?" the Baroness's graceful, exuberant voice came from behind the closed door of the library.

Sepulchral silence.

They stared at each other in a daze. Fear swept across their faces. Maria turned pale, she had told herself that she was brave, that she would do anything for him, but at that moment, she really was ready to run. The uncertainty of what might happen to them frightened her to the point of madness. She could see that image clearly, as if the door were made of glass. Here was the Baroness standing in her dazzling dress, staring expectantly at the door, her perfect eyebrows furrowed.

Georg, for his part, could have sworn that he had experienced more on that unfortunate evening than he had in the last five years of his life. The two of them stood there, not daring to move, listening to the Baroness's graceful footsteps moving away from the door as she headed the other way in search of the captain.

Damn.

He lost track of time, always calculating, cold, measured now he just felt like a lost boy. How could he not realise how much time they'd spent here?

Well, he had a very good reason. In fact, at that moment time did not exist for him at all. Maria was his time. His moon and his sun. She in her unearthly beauty and innocence enslaved him. Stealing his heart forever. But as much as he wanted to dissolve into her arms, to give in completely to this exquisite temptation, they had one piece of unfinished business.

They remained standing like that, her question still pertinent, but now it seemed like never before.

"You want me to stay here with you?"

The wait became impossible, spreading an unpleasant itch down her back. The old insecurity that had been building in her during the moments when she was with him was now crashing into her heart with renewed vigour. She feared and waited for his answer. Living and dying to hear what he would say to her. She was already irrevocably his. Though neither of them had said enough words that evening, neither of them had confessed the feelings that raged within them. She still knew there was no turning back. The point of no return had been reached.

Their eyes eyes met again, like sunlight streaming through the room, pointing at them, exposing them to each other.

He headed towards her, like a hunter finding his prey, though at that moment, he wasn't sure if he was a hunter anymore, now he felt like he was caught in a trap. A trap made of her delicate hands.

They were standing so close, their noses almost touching. Nothing mattered at that moment, everything was lost, shattered, just them. That's all that mattered at that moment.

You want me to stay here with you?

Yes.

I realised that I really like to brag to people who don't know me lol, so I got a scholarship and my report will even be published in a university magazine, the ultimate New Year's present. Maybe that's what helped me write this chapter so quickly.

I'm haunted by a stannous feeling, looking back at the first chapter, I never would have thought it would go this far. To tell you the truth, I don't know if i'm 100% happy with it. Enyway, as always, I look forward to your reviews. I own nothing.