Her bare feet crunch on the hard forest floor. They will blister and bleed later tonight, but she pays no attention. The thick, green air clears her head and she ponders.

She tells herself over and over that she is happy; that this is the free, wild life she was looking for. She picks wildflowers and wanders through the forest, trying not to think of anything in particular. She is permitted to escape frequently, not like her old life. The solitude is surprisingly pleasant next to the insanity of that morning, of the past few years. But a little voice that could be her conscience nags at her: why does she need to wander if she's so happy? She continues walking, deliberately trying to think of anything but that. Or him.

Every once in a blue moon, he enters her thoughts. The trigger could be anything. Stumbling on a root in the forest, Gustav's hair sticking upward as he wakes, the smell of autumn leaves. In those moments, a gawky, awkward little boy with a quiet demeanor enters her thoughts, and then is gone again.

Ilse doesn't know why she thinks of him now more than ever. That portion of her life is long over. She belongs with the Bohemians, spending hours laced with absinthe posing as French paintings, Greek goddesses, Roman whores, feeling wanted, feeling cared for. Yet, the skinny boy persists in constantly residing in the back of her mind.

His timing is sometimes shocking, as well. His toothy smile will spring into her head as Gustav kisses her, and she finds herself wishing that she were back holding his hand instead of her current lover's. But she questions this endlessly. How could she want anything more than the life she has? And, again, the boy is forgotten.

There is someone walking close to her. She can clearly hear their footfalls, their quiet but urgent voice. She knows that voice, would know it anywhere.

Dusk is beginning to fall, but she decides against going back just yet, for it's him. The boy. Moritz. Looking at the flowers in her hands, she feels something quietly shift within her. This is the first time she's allowed herself to think of him for more than a moment in a very long time. And it doesn't hurt. She was so sure it would.

Feeling the edge of her mouth twitch upwards, she lets her feet decide to visit the not-so-little-boy who's always haunted her thoughts. Maybe he's happier than her.