Moritz didn't know what was scarier; waking up realizing he had sex with Ilse, or waking up to a gun-barrel pointed at his chest. He decided on the latter, since having sex with Ilse didn't almost kill him.

"What the HELL, Gustave?!" Ilse shouted, scrambling off of Moritz's chest and smacking the barrel away like a fly. Gustave was looming over them, staggering and swaying like a falling oak tree.

"My paintings?" he murmured. "Have you seen my paintings?" Ilse smelled heavy liquor.

"Oh great, he's drunk!" Ilse said angrily. She grabbed the gun out of Gustave's hand, which let go without a struggle. "We didn't see your goddamn paintings, Gustave! Sod off!" She shoved Gustave in the chest with one hand, and he went down like a toppled tower of building blocks. It wasn't until he hit the floor and began to snore until Moritz finally exhaled. He had never held his breath for that long.

"Oh are you alright, love?" Ilse asked, taking his chin in her hand and turning his face towards hers. "He did that to me once, too. Hanschen said so too. He doesn't mean anything by it, he's just—"

"Did you say love?" Moritz squeaked. She stopped mid-sentence and blinked, before smiling.

"Yes, because I love you." she answered. Moritz felt a sense of happiness he hadn't experienced since childhood. He wrapped her in his arms, and she kissed him gently on the forehead, eyes and nose.

"That night...the night you found me. You said you loved me then. Did you mean it then, too?" Ilse placed the tip of her tongue between her teeth, seemingly thinking about it.

"I think I did." she said thoughtfully. "You were my friend, and I loved the memories we had together. I did love you, but not in the way I love you now." She nuzzled his shoulder like a kitten. "Making love can change your relationship with someone, whether it's positive...or negative." Her eyes lowered a little. Moritz always knew intuitively that Ilse had slept with other men, like Gustave and Johan, but knowing that now made him shiver a little inside. He didn't like that; he didn't like sharing Ilse. Now that he had had her, he wanted to keep her forever.

"I believe I love you too, Ilse." Moritz said finally, with a rather firm tone in his voice. Ilse's eyes jumped back up to meet his, big and sparkling. A bit of anticipation framed her features. "I love you...and I don't want you to love anyone else." Ilse bit her lip and looked down for a minute.

"None of my lovers had any problems with sharing me." She said quietly. "I began to think that I wasn't valuable enough to be kept to one person." That angered Moritz. He clutched her shoulders hard.

"Ilse, you are...you are the most precious thing in my life." he said shakily. "I love you, Ilse. I don't want you to love anyone else...I want you to love me, and only me." Nobody had ever asked Ilse to make this big of a commitment. Ilse used to think it was because it wasn't worth it, but now she saw that it wasn't that...she was just waiting for someone like Moritz, someone she would willingly commit to. "I won't ever leave you, Ilse." Moritz said slowly. "I am yours forever. Will you...be mine? Forever?"

"Forever..." Ilse said hesitantly. This time Moritz took her chin in his hand, and tilted her head up to look at her. As soon as she looked into his innocent, pleading eyes, she saw the right answer.

"Yes...yes!" she said louder. She wanted to scream it, she wanted the whole world to hear her! Moritz's face lit up like the sun and they embraced tightly as the morning light poured through the window. Moritz was happy; he had never been this happy, not even when he was a child. His whole body was trembling with joy, and when he kissed her, he felt a spark of the passion from last night rekindle. He began to slide his hand down her back and tousle her hair with the other hand. "I've never been loved in the morning before." Ilse said, breathlessly and running her fingers through his hair. "You're the only one who's ever stayed with me until morning." He didn't know how that was possible.

"I'll stay until the forever." Moritz muttered, his grammar a little fuzzy from the hot haze filtering into his head. Ilse fully jumped him now, her legs snaking around his waist. "Are we really making love with him in the—?" he said hesitantly. Before he could finish, the door burst open. Hanschen stood there, bewildered. He glanced down at Gustave, gave him a dirty look, then looked up at Moritz and Ilse in bed.

"Sorry to disturb you, but..." He face fell, and his brow knotted up. "Wendla Bergman is dead."