Author's Note: Hi againnnn! Already back with another chapter, it was just too fun to write. Hope y'all enjoy!

Chapter 2: Save Me From What I Have Become

Silence. It surrounded Georg like a heavy blanket, leaving him to wrestle with nothing but his oppressive thoughts. Thoughts of sitting in his new wife's exuberant townhouse on the streets of Vienna, yet feeling only bitter loneliness, its sharp claws digging into his skin.

The weather matched his darkened mood, as thunder rumbled in the distance. Only the pitter of rain on the window echoed throughout the daunting study in which he sat. Georg stared out the cold window, looking at the vibrant nightlife of downtown Vienna. As the raindrops crawled down the pane, his finger traced one until it reached the end and quickly escaped to the side.

The townhouse was immaculate, of course. Elsa had overseen every detail with precision, from the rich velvet curtains to the glided frames adorning the walls. It was beautiful, yet it seemed as foreign to him as the city itself. He felt as though he was trapped in a gilded cage – his own gilded cage.

Silence. Something he had long gone without. Truly, something not possible in his life. Not with his lively but regal late wife, always searching for ways to gently care for their household. Not with his boisterous children, always up to some mischief. Not with Max, his sponge of a friend, perpetually cracking dull-witted jokes. Not without his enthusiastic Maria –no governess –no his nothing.

The sound of his tumbler glass sharply hitting the burl wood desk resonated throughout the quiet room, startling the stillness. Georg cursed himself. Again. For letting thoughts of her seep into his mind again, sneaking into his head like a thief in the night, stealing his focus. This infatuation was supposed to be a forgotten memory by now, left in Salzburg where she belonged. Not following him all the way to his new life here in Vienna.

It was foolish, absurd really, how she lingered in his mind. How utterly ridiculous it was that she continued to haunt him like this. He was a married man now, bound to Elsa. It was wrong – shameful, even – to entertain thoughts of Maria. And Maria was surely settled into her new life as a nun. She had chosen her path. And he made a commitment to Elsa. He had promised a future to her. His future with Elsa.

He had only just arrived a week ago from his two-month-long honeymoon, yachting across the world, seeing all the places he had already once seen before. He should be well rested by now, enjoying his newlywed living, soaking in the glittering atmosphere surrounding him.

Yet all he felt was exhaustion deep in his bones, a profound, wearied fatigue. His bones ached from the constant charades, from the parade of parties with Elsa. Their only purpose? To provide the town with new, exciting gossip. He scoffed.

Georg was tired of being shown around like some prize Elsa had won. And he felt he was still recovering from the extravagance on their wedding. His thoughts flittered back to that day.

The ceremony had been a spectacular affair, flowers streaming from the pews of the church, crystal lights illuminating the room. The space had been filled with hundreds of guests, ranging from their closest friends to mere acquaintances to bores they both despised – Elsa had insisted on all of them. He believed it was so she could rub her new becomings into the faces of those who had doubted her. It had been everything Elsa had dreamed of – and everything Georg could have done without. He preferred the quiet dignity of a simple wedding procession without all the grandeur surrounding him. But then again, this wasn't about him, was it?

As he watched Elsa glide around the room, a vision of radiant beauty, commanding attention of all who surrounded her, as though the evening itself bowed to her presence. Meanwhile, Georg found himself shrinking to the edges, nursing a glass of champagne that had long since gone warm. Oh, how he wished it would turn into a burning glass of whiskey. The smiles, the laughter, the toasts circling him – they all felt pathetic, something worthless, empty. Inside, he felt like a marionette, his strings pulled by Elsa's vision of perfection.

And then, unbidden, the thought of Maria crept into his mind. He closed his eyes briefly, as if that would help him block her out, but the memory of her smile was too vivid, too persistent. Maria would not have needed the grandeur of crystal lights or a sea of adoring faces. No, she would have made even the simplest ceremony feel extraordinary just by being herself. He could almost hear her laughter, light and full of life, echoing in his mind – a stark contrast to the hollow, almost mechanic hum of the crowd around him. He clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself.

Georg was snapped from his reverie by Max's voice. "Hmm Georg. You don't look much like a newly married man ought to," Max remarked, sidling up to him with a fresh glass in hand. "I expected you to be beaming, prancing about with your enchanting wife, exchanging expected pleasantries with your guests. Yet here you are, sulking like a boy whose toy has been taken away."

Georg let out a dry chuckle, swirling his glass before downing the remainder of the lukewarm liquid. "Perhaps I am simply appreciating the spectacle from a distance. It's quite the performance, isn't it?"

Max raised a brow, his tone light but his eyes shrewd. "Ah, yes. A man of taste, savoring the evening with quiet dignity. But forgive me, my dear friend, if I say you look more burdened then dignified."

"Burdened?" Georg echoed, his jaw tightening. "What could possibly burden me on this most joyous of days?"

"Oh, I don't know," Max replied, feigning indiffernce. "The weight of all this splendor, perhaps? But this is nothing new to you, Georg. Perhaps there is something – or someone – you can't quite admit you're missing."

Georg's gaze snapped to Max's, sharp and inquisitive. "Well, yes, of course. Shouldn't I be expected to think about my late wife on a day like this?"

"Undoubtedly. But you know that is not what I am talking about," Max said slyly.

"Careful, Max," Georg said, his voice low. "Not everything needs to be analyzed."

Before Max could reply, Elsa appeared, floating toward them with effortless grace. She leaned in to plant a kiss on Georg's cheek, her perfume cloyingly sweet and her smile bright enough to rival that of the chandeliers.

"Georg, darling," she purred, sliding her hand down his arm. "Hiding away with Max, are we? I hope he is not boring you with his endless witticisms."

Georg's smile tightened, his hand sliding around her slender waist. "Not at all, my dear. Max was just reminding me of my duties as the luckiest man in the room." He glanced pointedly at this friend. "Have I told you how much of an absolute vision you look today, Baroness von Trapp?"

Elsa beamed, preening under the compliment. "Oh Georg, you're too kind. But don't let Max keep you all to himself. There's a world of people dying to toast to our happiness."

"Of course," Georg replied, his voice smooth, though his grip on the glass betrayed the tension simmering beneath. "Shall we, then?"

As Elsa led him back into the throng, Georg cast a glance over his should at Max. His friend gave him a small, knowing nod, as if to say the conversation was not over. Georg sighed inwardly, bracing himself for another round of performative smiles and hollow laughter. The night was far from over, and so was the weight he carried.

Georg was brought back to the presence, his despair only growing as the memory of the wedding dissolved. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, its warmth barely touching the chill that seemed to seep into his very bones.

Georg pushed himself into a plush chair and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, the glass cradled between his hands. He tried, with determination, to focus on the life he had chosen: the townhouse, the social circles, the endless parade of obligations. Yet his mind betrayed him, and he could not escape the small, lively figure twirling her way throughout his head, her laughter echoing in his mind. Her memory refused to release its hold. He pressed his fingers to his temples, as if he could will her image away.

It wasn't as if Maria had done anything to encourage his feelings; she had left, hadn't she? She had walked away, leaving him to make these choices. He rose abruptly, pacing to window yet again, watching as the rain picked up furthermore, cloistering much of the life in Vienna inside and asleep for the day.

He should be happy for her. Happy that she was living the life she had always intended to. A life that was comfortable and safe for her. But instead, he felt hollow. He had everything society told he should want – wealth, status, a beautiful wife – and yet he felt as if he had nothing at all.

His reflection caught his eye in the glass, and for a moment, he barely recognized the man starting back at him. This wasn't who he had been, not before. Georg raked a hand through his hair sighing deeply. He needed to stop this – stop thinking of her, stop chasing memories that led nowhere. But as he sank back into the chair and reached for his glass, he knew it was easier said than done. He let his mind drift again.

The honeymoon suite was dripping with luxury – crystal chandeliers casting soft light over walls adorned with gilded accents, a bed draped in silk, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a dazzling view of Vienna. Yet the ornate décor felt stifling. The slightest bit of dread filled Georg's head as he awaited Elsa's arrival. He should have been eagerly anticipating her, ready to sweep her into his arms and carry her over the threshold with the fervor of a newlywed.

Instead, he had snuck out of the reception early and had made his way up to the handsome suite that awaited him and his new bride. The party had become absolutely suffocating, and he had to escape the oppressive atmosphere of forced smiles and meaningless congratulations. The party had been Elsa's crowning moment, a culmination of her charm and determination, and he had fled from it. Now, in the stillness of the suite, he realized he felt no more at ease.

Georg ran a hand through his hair, chastising himself. This was his wedding night. He should feel passionate, exhilarated, alive. But the truth was inescapable, he didn't.

The click of the door opening startled him, and he turned to see Elsa entering the room, her white gown shimmering like a vision. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, a coy smile playing on her lips.

"There you are," she said softly. "I wondered where my charming husband had disappeared to."

He forced a smile. "I needed a moment. The crowd was… overwhelming."

Elsa crossed the room, her steps deliberate, and stopped just in front of him. She placed a hand on his chest, her touch warm. "Well, I suppose I should feel honored that you retreated here. To me."

"Of course," Georg murmured, his hand covering hers.

She tilted her head, studying him with a sharpness he found disconcerting. "You're so serious, Georg. Surely, you don't think we need to act like hot-blooded youth, do you?"

The words stung more than they should have. He shook his head, a hollow chuckle escaping his lips. "No, Elsa. There's no reason for that."

Elsa studied him for a moment longer, then smiled – a delicate, knowing smile that seemed to pierce through him. "Good," she said, slipping out of her heels. "Because this is our moment, Georg. Everything about tonight is ours."

Her words felt rehearsed, as though she'd recited them to herself in the mirror. Perhaps she had, which caused a little swell of shame to overcome him. He didn't want her to feel any less of herself, she did nothing to deserve that. Georg bristled himself, and knew he had to make this night the most he could, if only for her.

His eyes followed Elsa as she moved toward the bed, her hands gliding over the smooth silk of the covers, and then she gestured for him to join her. He hesitated though, his feet rooted to the floor as if the space between them was an abyss he wasn't sure he wanted to cross. Before this, he had been protected from this intimacy by words about honor and propriety. But here he was, his wedding night staring him down.

"Georg?" Elsa's voice was soft, but the edge of impatience wasn't lost on him. "Don't keep me waiting."

He exhaled and took a step forward, then another, until he stood before her. She reached for his hand, pulling him down onto the bed beside her. Her touch was light, practiced, but her eyes searched his face for something – confirmation, perhaps, or reassurance. He wanted to, but he was not sure he could give her either.

Elsa leaned in, her perfume enveloping him in a cloud of jasmine and vanilla. "I have waited so long for this, Georg," she murmured, her lips brushing against his. "For us."

He responded automatically, his hands resting of her waist, his mouth moving against hers, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew it; she likely did too. Yet she seemed determined to pretend otherwise, her movements deliberate, her kisses insistent.

The intimacy was there in form but not in spirit. Every gesture, every word felt scripted, like a performance they were both obligated to deliver. He played his part, willing but detached, his mind drifting despite himself.

When the room finally fell quiet, the weight of expectation lifted, he found himself staring at the ceiling. Elsa, contented and smiling faintly, nestled into the pillows beside him, her breathing steady as she drifted into sleep.

Georg turned his head slightly, watching her for a moment. She looked serene, every bit the picture-perfect bride. But as he gazed at her, the image of another woman slipped into his thoughts – unbidden and undeniable.

Eyes warm and full of life, framed by hair that danced like sunlight. A laugh that could brighten even the darkest of days. Maria.

His jaw tightened as he turned his gaze back to the ceiling. What was wrong with him? This was his wedding night, his wife beside him, her warmth so close. And yet his heart felt it was somewhere else entirely.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The memory shifted, and Georg found himself on the Amalfi Coast. The air was heavy with the scent of roses as they dined on the terrace of a lavish seaside villa. The sea sparkled under the sun, the scene immaculate and curated. Everything about it was picturesque, made to perfection – except for the man at its center.

Georg swirled his wine absentmindedly, the glass catching the late afternoon light. He half-listened as Elsa recounted their itinerary for the week: moonlit dinners, private boat tours, evenings at the opera. Her enthusiasm filled the space between them, yet he found it difficult to match her energy as it failed to pierce the growing unease within him.

"Isn't this everything we imagined?" Elsa's voice broke through his thoughts, her smile dazzling, yet he caught the underdrift of sadness, something fragile, yearning.

Guilt filled Georg, and he forced a nod, raising his glass to meet hers in a toast. "Of course, darling. You've outdone yourself."

But even as the words left his lips, he felt the dissonance growing within him. The opulence suffocated him, the constant performance of happiness draining whatever joy he might have felt. This wasn't what he had imagined at all – not the intimacy of a true partnership, not the quiet contentment he had once dreamed of.

As Elsa leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, he could not stop his thoughts from drifting once more. He had imagined this moment before, hadn't he? But the person at his side wasn't Elsa. No, it had been someone else entirely – someone with warm, laughing eyes and an unpretentious charm that lit up any room.

Maria.

The thought stuck him with the force of a wave, leaving him breathless. He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard as Elsa sighed longingly beside him.

"Georg," Elsa said, her brow furrowed slightly as her smile dimmed. "Where are you right now, darling? And how can I bring you back here?"

He stiffened, feeling her gaze bore into him. "I'm here," he said simply.

"No, you're not." Her tone sharpened, and she leaned forward. "You've been drifting this whole time. What is it? What are you not telling me?"

He hesitated, the weight of her question pressing against the truth he could never say. Finally, he signed. "Elsa, this-" He gestured vaguely at the table, the villa, the sparkling sea. "It's all… perfect. You've thought of everything."

Her lips tightened. "But not enough for you."

"Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't make this something it's not."

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "I am not blind, Georg. You've been distracted since the moment we arrived. Since before that, even."

He looked away, staring at the horizon. "Elsa. You have to understand how some of this is hard on me. You know how much Agathe meant to me, hell, you saved me from drowning after her death. It might just take a little adjusting from me, you have to understand."

Georg felt another stab of guilt as the words left his mouth, using the excuse of his late wife. It was true that the loss of his first wife still weighed on him, but invoking her memory now felt dishonest. The truth was more complicated – a tangle of feelings he could not fully unravel, let alone share with Elsa.

Her anger softened, though some remnants of tension lingered in her eyes. She reached for his hand, her grip firm and steady. "Of course, Georg. But I lost my husband too. I'm choosing to push past it, and I yearn for you to do the same. I need you to be here with me, Georg. I am your wife now."

He turned back to her, managing a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "I am trying, I assure you."

Georg was once again pulled from his thoughts back to the present by Elsa's voice, soft and sweet but edged with weariness. "Darling, it's half past midnight. You must be heading to bed soon, yes?"

He glanced at her, standing in the doorway in a lace robe that clung to her slim frame, leaving little to the imagination. The sight should have stirred something in him, but all it did was remind him of how far away he felt. A fleeting thought of escape crossed his mind – a desire to avoid another night of carefully crafted intimacy.

Still, he had obligations. "Of course, darling," he said, his tone measured. "Let me finish my night cap, and I'll be right there."

"Don't leave me waiting long," Elsa replied, her voice quieter now. She turned and retreated up the stairs, her words echoing in his mind. The words bothered him, as they reminded him of one of the nights he had been reflecting on, adding another layer of guilt to the weight already pressing down on him. It felt a second nature to him now.

Georg drained the rest of his whiskey, the sharp burn scratching at his throat. He coughed lightly, setting the glass down with care before rising to his feet. His body protested the movement, a reminder of the toll his years at sea had taken.

The ache reminded him of her. Maria. The thoughts he feared he could never escape, lingering at the edges of his mind, always unwelcome yet insistent. Anyways, why would a bright, young woman with so much ahead of her want to settle for an aging, brooding sea captain? He let out a bitter chuckle, the sound low and self-deprecating. The foolishness of dwelling on her even more apparent to him now.

As he climbed the stairs to join Elsa, he made a silent vow to end these thoughts, to banish them somehow. He let the ghost of Agathe torment him long enough; he could not afford to let Maria's memory do the same. Yet, as he reached the top of the staircase and turned toward his shared bedroom, the weight of that vow already felt impossible to bear. Unwanted, a flicker of a thought crossed his mind – a fleeting hope, or perhaps a fear, that the world might conspire to bring her back into his life. The idea seemed absurd, shameful, and yet, it lingered, refusing to be dismissed

Yayyy, we love. I just wanted to give a glimpse into what Georg is feeling. The regret, the shame, and a feeling of a marriage that is crumbling before it really ever began. Anyways, next chapter will be time for Georg and Maria to meet once again - I can't wait ha. Hope you guys enjoyed once again!

Also, pleaseee bare with me as I get accustomed to this website lol. I noticed quite a few mistakes in the previous chapter, but they should all be fixed up now. :)

PS - I own absolutely nothing from the Sound of Music - just my love for it!