A knock on the door drew him out of his reverie. That's right. Wilhelmine was coming today, to check up on him. She'd taken it upon herself to become his own personal doctor, though he reminded her constantly that he didn't need it. If the most experienced doctors in Germany couldn't give him a diagnosis more advanced than "a sort of non-contagious consumption" then he highly doubted that Wilhelmine, not even in university yet, could give him a better diagnosis.

Still, he answered the door with a smile on his face. "Hello, Wil," he greeted, kissing her on the cheek. "How have you been?"

"Not so bad," she replied, entering the apartment. "Studying for the Abitur is killing me, though. How did you manage it?"

"Determination," Alfons said. There was really no other explanation. It was sheer determination, to be the best, to be remembered, to get into space, that had gotten him through Oberrealschule and the Abitur three years early.

"I've got that. I think it was your remarkable intelligence," Wilhelmine mused. "Perhaps the determination helped, but you wouldn't have managed it without intelligence."

"You're just as smart as I am," he assured her. She was, really. She'd just wanted to learn all that she could, unlike Alfons, who only wanted to learn what interested him. He'd gotten sick of literature and English and French, and had only wanted to learn physics and mathematics. Wilhelmine wanted to learn it all.

Wilhelmine blushed and smiled. He was too kind, really. She'd be in an orphanage somewhere without him and his kindness, not on her way to passing the Abitur and going to university. "Shall we go to your room, then?"

Alfons nodded, blushing slightly. He knew exactly why Wilhelmine wanted to go into his room; he wasn't totally oblivious to women. This happened every time, after all. Not that he was complaining. He repented every time, anyway, so there was really little danger of going to hell for it. What a stupid thing that would be to go to hell for, when she was so pretty and smart and lovely.

She followed him into his room, and he locked the door behind her, replacing the key on the desk where it had been. "Well, then..." he said softly.

"Sit down and take your shirt off, will you?" she implored, pulling out some medical equipment. "I want to check your vitals."

He had no idea why in the world this got her so worked up every time, but he did as he was told.

She frowned upon seeing his body. "You're losing weight. Are you eating?"

"Of course I'm eating. I just... haven't got as good an appetite as I've had..." He hadn't thought that he'd lost that much weight, but if Wilhelmine had noticed it straightaway...

"Eat more, okay? I know it might be hard, but you need to make sure that you get enough food. It's not like you haven't got the ability to get as much food as you need."

Alfons nodded. "I'll try."

"No. No trying. You're going to eat more, Alfons. You need to gain weight. If you keep losing at this rate..." she bit her lip.

"Right, yeah. I'll eat more," he assured her. He took her hands in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them. "You have no idea how grateful I am for everything that you've done for me, Wil. I'll make sure to eat more."

"Don't just eat more. I know you. Don't stuff yourself with sweets. Make sure to get some vegetables and meat in you, too."

He smiled. "I know that, Wil."

Wilhelmine blushed furiously and pulled her hands from his. "I need to check your vitals."

Why in the world had that gotten her worked up? Alfons sighed and did as he was told as Wilhelmine went through the standard procedure that they both knew would be no different from last time, or the time before that...

"I really want to figure out what's wrong with you," she murmured after she'd finished, sitting down in his lap. "You mean so much to me, Alfons, and I'd absolutely hate to lose you."

"I know, Wil. I don't want to go, either."

"Even though you'd be with your family?"

Alfons chucked. "Eduard would beat me to a pulp for dying so young."

Wilhelmine smiled, though she didn't seem relieved at all. She began undoing her hair, and kissed him. Alfons wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her back. He ran his hands through her golden locks, and frowned when she stood up.

"Help me out of this?" she asked with a smile. He returned her smile with one of his own, standing up and unbuttoning her dress, taking his time to do it. He leaned down and kissed her neck.

"You have no idea how much I want to marry you," she whispered. "But I can't, even if you weren't sick..."

"Shhh..."

Alfons helped Wilhelmine out of the rest of her clothes (really, he never understood why women felt the need to wear so many clothes; it was ridiculous and entirely impractical) before picking her up and laying her down on his bed. He rolled her stockings down and took them off, kissing her legs as he did so. Alfons then stood up and finished undressing himself quickly, so that he could get back to Wilhelmine as soon as possible. He kissed her all over, trailing his hands all over her body. If he was going to sin, he might as well enjoy it, right?

It was just a shame for her... that she'd fallen in love with him. He was going to die, anyway, and making love to a pretty girl would hardly ruin his entire reputation. Hers, however...

It wasn't like no one would find out; if she did get married, some day, she would certainly be found out. Even if she didn't get married, it wasn't like no one would ever find out. It would come out one way or another.

But it was best not to think about that now. It was best not to think of anything now, but her here and now, in the present, the two of them together, if only for a short while.

He continued to kiss her all throughout. He loved kissing her, her soft skin and lovely curves, her red lips and blushing cheeks, all of her.

Afterward, they cuddled. They always did. And they talked. It was the talking that ruined the mood, really, because it just reminded them that he was most likely dying, and that, even if he weren't, he was a Junker and she was a commoner. Even though the Kaiserreich was gone, he doubted that the aristocracy would take kindly to him marrying a commoner.

But God, how wonderful it would be to marry her... She was so sweet and smart and lovely. She'd be a wonderful wife. No, it was more than that; she'd be a wonderful partner. They did compliment each other wonderfully. They were in love.

Then again, who married for love? Alfons had never met anyone in the aristocracy who had married for love. He supposed that the ones who had must have married below them, and, as such, weren't fit for society.

It wasn't as if Wilhelmine didn't know how to behave like a lady. Even though she was a commoner; she'd been raised around Junkers. True, she wasn't on the same level as Alfons, but she'd at least managed to pick up on some of it. Perhaps she might be able to pull it off...

No.

That was a dangerous train of thought.

He wasn't going to marry her. Simple as that. If, by some miracle, he did live, he would probably end up marrying some count's daughter and living in his family's country manor. It wasn't as if either of them were willing to risk running away. Alfons wasn't even sure that he'd last a journey to another country; that's not even to mention the anti-German sentiment that he knew was all over the world right now.

It was just safer to stay this way. Close friends on the outside, lovers behind closed doors. No marriages or futures together.

But that didn't mean that it was easier.

It was so much harder than he would have thought. Even then, as she was cuddled up next to him, part of him wanted nothing more than to run away with her, to be with her forever.

Fortunately, there was a part of him that was much stronger: his ambition.

He was going to be remembered. Not as some fallen Junker's son, but as Alfons Heiderich. Rockets seemed the way to get there. Imagine being the first person to send something into space. People would never stop talking about him. He wouldn't have lived in vain.

Wilhelmine shifted slightly; she nuzzled into him some more. "I love you," she murmured, even though she knew how dangerous that was. He could tell that she was about to drift off to sleep because she had relaxed entirely.

"I love you, too, Wil," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of her face.

Wilhelmine sighed and smiled.

Alfons felt a dull ache in his chest that had nothing at all to do with his illness.