Marie and Lilian stood in the doorway of Georg's room, watching him with varying degrees of interest. Lilian, ever the gossip, had been lingering for a while now, first bringing up the older woman who had barged into his office yesterday. Marie had joined shortly after, likely drawn in by Lilian's nosiness rather than her own curiosity.
"She had a nerve, coming all the way here," Lilian remarked, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. "What was she even hoping to accomplish?"
Georg didn't glance up as he folded the last of his clothes, instead nodding toward the towel on his desk. "I heard from her mother that she's been thinking about me."
Marie, who had stepped further into the room, picked up the towel without hesitation. "Her mother?" she repeated, a frown creasing her brow.
Lilian scoffed. "You mean the same woman who said she'd do anything to keep the two of you apart?"
Georg took the towel from Marie's hands, the corner of his lips twitching slightly in amusement. "If Maria hadn't told her mother how much she's into me," he said matter-of-factly, "Frau Nina wouldn't have come here."
Marie huffed, folding her arms. "That woman's got nerve."
Lilian simply made a face, then Georg shook his head and chuckled. "Look, no one can stop what's meant to be. When two people are destined, nobody can keep them apart." He placed the towel into his suitcase before closing it with finality.
Marie exchanged a glance with Lilian before narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't dive into it headfirst," she warned as Georg moved toward his closet.
"That's what I'm trying to tell him," Lilian chimed in, nodding toward Marie. "He needs to be careful."
Georg turned back, a necktie in hand, arching a brow. "Careful about what?"
Lilian huffed. "You men have a hard time reading women. How do you know Maria will welcome you with open arms?"
A smirk tugged at Georg's lips as he looped the tie around his neck. "Maria is different." His voice held unwavering certainty. "She's never even glanced at another man, never desired anyone else. There's only me." His hands moved deftly, tightening the knot. "She's never fallen in love before. Her heart is pure—just as her body."
Lilian made a teasing sound, pretending to swoon. "That was beautiful," she said dramatically.
Marie, however, remained cautious. "I'm wary of her," she admitted. "Sinners—we already know what they're capable of. But saints... when they go astray, they're unpredictable." She met Georg's eyes, her expression serious. "What if God disagrees with what you're doing? What if He turns against you?"
Georg didn't hesitate. He reached for his suit jacket and shrugged into it. "If there's anyone in this world who knows I'm being sincere, it's God."
With that, he took his suitcase, stepped toward the door, and held it open for the two women. Then he left, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
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Maria awoke to the sharp, insistent knocking at the door. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion from the previous day. She had barely slept, her thoughts consumed by Georg—his words, his promises, the way his presence had unraveled everything she thought she knew. The sunlight streaming through the window confirmed she had slept in much later than usual.
The pounding on the door continued, relentless and unyielding. Frau Nina wasn't home—that much was painfully obvious. Maria swallowed hard, forcing herself upright. Wearing her wrapper tightly around her, she hurried across the room, her bare feet cold against the wooden floor.
"Just a moment!" she called, hastily tying the belt of her wrapper. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the latch and pulled the door open.
The moment she saw who stood before her, her breath caught in her throat.
Georg smiled the instant he saw her, a warmth in his gaze that made her heart lurch painfully. "Maria." His voice was soft, almost reverent.
Panic seized her. Without a second thought, she slammed the door shut with a force that sent a tremor through her arms. She pressed her back against the wood, gripping the edges of her wrapper with trembling hands, her pulse hammering wildly in her ears.
He was here.
"Maria." Georg's voice came from the other side, firm yet pleading. "Talk to me."
Maria closed her eyes, willing herself not to respond. She heard his knuckles rap against the door again. "Max gave me your rosary," he continued. "I know what this means to you."
Her heart twisted, but she steeled herself. "Go away," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, stronger, "Don't come looking for me anymore."
"Please don't do this," Georg said, the desperation creeping into his tone. "You love me. I know you do."
Maria clenched her fists. "No." She forced the word out, though it felt like tearing something from within her. "I don't want to see you again."
Silence stretched between them before Georg spoke again, quieter now, but no less firm. "You're betraying me. And God. You can't be a nun, Maria."
Maria swallowed, staring at the wooden grain of the door as if it could somehow ground her. She could, and she would. This was the only way. With these words, he had only confirmed what she already feared—she and Georg could never be.
As if trying to trick her, Georg said, "If you don't want me, why don't you open the door?"
Maria frowned, her grip tightening on the fabric of her wrapper.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Georg pressed.
Maria drew in a sharp breath, her resolve hardening. Suddenly, a loud thud hit the door as Georg slammed his hand against it. "Open up, Maria."
Her heart pounded. There was anger within her now, a fire that fought against the pain. With conviction, she said, "I don't want to see your face ever again. Go back to those women who showed their bodies for you."
Tears pricked behind her eyes. She had to believe it. Had to believe that Georg was not meant for her, that he could never change for her.
There was a pause, a heavy silence that made her stomach twist. Then Georg spoke again, his voice quieter, almost wounded. "I came all this way, filled with the hope you placed in me. The least you could do is speak to me properly."
Maria shouted through the door, her voice raw with emotion. "Get out of here!"
She could tell that Georg was angry too, his frustration seeping through his words. "If I leave Tyrol without speaking to you, you will never see me again."
Maria's breath hitched, but she remained silent.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice edged with finality.
She squeezed her eyes shut, regret pooling deep within her. Part of her did want him to leave—his presence made it impossible for her to think clearly, to cling to the future she had chosen for herself. And yet, another part of her—her heart—ached at the thought of never seeing him again, never feeling the warmth of his gaze, never hearing his voice call her name with such tenderness.
"Do you?" Georg asked again, his voice softer now.
Maria didn't respond.
Georg exhaled slowly. "Then I'll catch the first train I see," he said, his voice devoid of hope. "And that will be the end."
Maria closed her eyes, her breath shaking. She couldn't respond. She didn't know what to say or feel. Tears finally slipped from her lashes as she made up her mind.
"Go," she whispered.
There was a long silence.
Then Georg spoke again, barely audible. "I'll go."
Maria listened as his footsteps shuffled away from the door. Without thinking, she cracked it open just a little, peeking through the slit, desperate for one last glimpse of him.
She saw him walking away, his back rigid, his pace steady. Then, suddenly, he stopped and turned around. Their eyes met for a brief, painful moment, as if both of them were imprinting the sight of the other into their memories. Then Georg turned again, heading toward the train station, leaving Maria standing alone at the doorway.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
Maria had always found solace in the mountains, a refuge where she could escape the noise of the world and quiet the storm within her. She had come here often, seeking the serenity that eluded her elsewhere. Today, however, the stillness around her did nothing to soothe her restless thoughts.
She sat beneath a towering tree, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze fixed on the vast sky above. The morning's encounter with Georg lingered in her mind, refusing to fade no matter how much she tried to push it away. She should be grateful, she told herself. Grateful that the greatest temptation in her life had finally left, that nothing stood in her way now. There would be no more distractions, no lingering looks, no whispered promises to shake her resolve. The path to becoming a nun was clear once more.
And yet... why did she feel this ache inside her chest?
A part of her—small, but undeniable—mourned the thought of never seeing him again. It was absurd, she reasoned. He was a disruption, an obstacle. She should be relieved. But instead, an unsettling sense of loss gnawed at her.
She tilted her head back, staring at the open sky as if searching for a sign, some divine reassurance that she had made the right choice. The breeze rustled through the trees, whispering secrets she could not decipher.
Then, a sign. From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement.
Her breath caught in her throat as she turned. A lone figure was making his way up the mountain path. The steady crunch of boots against the dirt reached her ears, each step bringing the person closer. Maria's heart pounded. It couldn't be—
And then she saw him. Her eyes widened in shock, her pulse racing.
At the sight of Georg, something deep within her stirred. The weight that had settled in her chest when she watched him walk away this morning vanished as if it had never been there.
She wanted to deny it, to shove the feeling down where it couldn't betray her. But she couldn't. Not anymore.
Her mind, her body, her soul—they all wanted him.
Georg stopped in the middle of the path and set his suitcase down before continuing toward her. "You thought I left?" he asked, his voice breathless, as if he had rushed to find her.
Maria could only stare at him, her lips parting slightly. He smiled softly and shook his head. "My heart couldn't seem to separate from you."
He stopped just in front of her and held out his hand. Hesitantly, she placed her own in his, allowing him to pull her up. Their eyes locked, their hands entwined, neither willing to let go. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it made her dizzy. She didn't know how it happened, but their grip tightened, as if afraid of losing each other all over again.
Slowly, Georg lifted his free hand to her head. He hesitated for only a moment before removing her postulant's veil. Maria, too lost in the depths of his blue eyes, barely registered what he had done until she saw the veil flutter to the ground.
"Georg, why—" Her voice caught, but she never finished.
In the next instant, he yanked her into his arms, his lips crashing onto hers.
Maria's breath hitched. Her world tilted dangerously, her heart hammering against her ribs. Everything inside her screamed that this was wrong. And yet, her hands found his shoulders, gripping him as if he was the only thing keeping her upright.
Because perhaps, in this moment, he was.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
A/N: Sorry for not updating for some time, I have another exam coming up so I've been spending some time preparing for it. You might also want to prepare, because rating of the fic will be changed to M starting from the next chapter. Haha. Anyway.