Music filled the room as we shuffled back and forth to the calming lull of the record player. I rest my head on his chest, looking up at him through my bangs. My hand reaches up to caress his cold cheek delicately, and we smile.

The radio suddenly wakes up, beeping overcoming the soft music.

“We have 10 minutes left before the meteor hits. Goodbye, everyone.”

I leave him to turn off the music, letting silence surround the two of us. Then, I turn to pull him to the window, his feet dragging along the hardwood floor.

Lights flicker across the glass pane, warm oranges rising from the rubble outside. The dust from fallen buildings lingers in the air. Evidence to all the riots and the tumultuous crowds that panicked at the initial news. There are still some people left even now, hoping to outrun their impending deaths.

But when I close my eyes, I can almost imagine none of it had ever happened. I draw the curtains close, leaving only the light of the glimmering candles.

I look up into my lover’s eyes and smile, reaching up to continue our dance. My humming fills the silence as I maneuver his arms to hold me, and his face to look only at me. A tear falls from my eye, but I whisk it away, not letting it dampen my smile. I lean my head on his chest again, swaying back and forth with the cold gray hands.

Like this, I can almost imagine it’s him.