The night was quiet as Georg slipped out of the von Trapp mansion, the cool air brushing against his skin as he made his way to the gardener's cottage. He could still feel the heat of the argument with his father coursing through him, each step a mix of frustration and determination. The stars twinkled overhead, but all he could think about was Maria—the one person who always seemed to understand him.

He approached the cottage, glancing up at the window he knew belonged to Maria's room. Taking a deep breath, he picked up a few small pebbles from the ground and tossed them gently against the glass. It didn't take long for him to see a shadow move inside, and a moment later, Maria's familiar figure appeared in the window.
As soon as she recognized him, she hurried to let him in, her face filled with concern. "Georg! What are you doing here at this hour?" she whispered, opening the door wide enough for him to slip inside.

"I'm sorry for waking you," he said, his voice low. "I just needed to see you."

Maria could sense the tension in his posture and the weight behind his words. "What's wrong?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she studied his face.

Georg hesitated for a moment, the urge to tell her everything battling against the instinct to protect her from his father's harshness. "It's... it's my father," he finally said, choosing to focus on that aspect of their argument. "We had a fight. He's been pressuring me about my future, and it's just so suffocating."

Maria stepped closer, her heart aching for him. "I'm sorry, Georg. You can talk to me about it," she said softly, moving to the side and gesturing to her bed. "Why don't you lie down for a moment? It might help to calm you."

Gratefully, Georg sank onto the bed beside her, the familiar scent of her room enveloping him like a comforting embrace. Maria lay down beside him, their bodies close but not quite touching. In the stillness of the night, the tension between them grew, an unspoken connection that pulsed in the air.

As they lay there, their hearts raced in unison, and Georg couldn't help but feel the warmth radiating from her body. The darkness faded into the background as he turned to face her, his gaze searching hers for answers to questions he hadn't yet formulated.

"Maria," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You mean so much to me."

She smiled softly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "You mean a lot to me too, Georg. I wish I could take away your troubles."

In that moment, everything else melted away—the pressure from his father, the expectations looming over them. Georg leaned in closer, the warmth of her body drawing him in, and before he knew it, their lips met, igniting a spark that had long been simmering beneath the surface.

Their kisses grew more urgent as their hands explored one another's bodies. Maria let out a soft moan as Georg's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Maria's fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one as his hands slipped under her dress. The fabric was thin, and he could feel the heat emanating from her body as he skimmed her thighs, his fingers brushing against the thin cotton of her underwear.

The sound of his belt clinking open seemed to break through the haze, bringing them both back to reality. Georg paused, taking in the sight of Maria—her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with every ragged breath. She was beautiful, and for tonight, she was all his.

"I'm sorry," Georg murmured, pulling back and helping her up. "I didn't mean for us to get so carried away."

"I'm sorry too," Maria replied, looking down as she fixed her dress. "I wasn't thinking properly."

Georg sighed, tucking his shirt into his pants before refastening his belt. "I didn't mean to..." he trailed off as he looked at her. "May I hold you in my arms, at least?"

"Of course." Maria smiled. Georg laid back down next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her against his chest. They both lay in comfortable silence, Georg occasionally planting kisses on her forehead or cheek as Maria's fingers traced lazy circles on his arm.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night outside their window. Maria's fingers now absently traced patterns over his chest, and Georg thought it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever felt. The world outside didn't exist in this moment, and he was content to let it stay that way forever. Maria was his world now. She was everything to him.

They lay remained in each other's arms, the tension that had filled the air moments before was replaced with a sense of calm and fulfillment. Georg brushed a stray strand of hair from Maria's face, his heart swelling with emotion.

"Promise me something," he said, his voice tender as he looked deep into her eyes.

"Anything," she replied, her breath still slightly unsteady from their shared moment.

"While I'm at the naval academy, I want you to write to me. Here's an address where you can send your letters." Georg pulled a small piece of paper from her nightstand and scribbled down the address, handing it to her with a sense of urgency. "I want to hear everything about your life while I'm away."

Maria took the paper, her heart warming at the thought of staying connected despite the distance. "I promise I will," she said, her voice steady. "I'll write to you every week. You won't have to worry about a thing."

Georg smiled, relief flooding through him. "Good. I'll need that. I want to know how you're doing, what you're thinking—everything. You're the reason I can face whatever comes next."

As they lay side by side, the weight of the world seemed lighter, their bond strengthened by the moments they had shared. And although uncertainty lay ahead, both of them knew they would find a way to navigate the challenges together. For the first time in a long while, Georg felt a flicker of hope, and it burned brightly within him as he drifted off to sleep beside Maria, wrapped in the warmth of their shared promise.

Georg woke up to the faint sunlight filtering through the window. He blinked, his eyes still half-lidded, as he realized that the sun hadn't yet fully risen. He was careful to remove Maria's head from his chest and gently slipped out of the bed.

He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I have to go," he whispered, running a hand through her soft hair. Maria mumbled in her sleep but didn't stir, so Georg kissed her once more before slipping out her window.

But before he left her, Georg wanted something to remember her by—a memento from the night before. At one of the knobs on her bedpost, he noticed a dusty wooden rosary hanging around it, clearly unused. She wouldn't miss it, he thought. He silently untangled it from the knob and slipped it into his pocket as he went out her window, being careful to make as little noise as possible. The sun was peeking over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape. With a final glance at the window, Georg made his way back to the house.