"I love you, baby."
Wanda stretched out her arms and legs until her joints passed, before curling back against the warm body behind her. "I love you too, Ian," she murmured sleepily. They were lying together on the floor of the large garden-room on top of two cots they had pushed together. It was dimly lit by the reflection of the moon. On of Ian's arms was tucked under the pillow they shared; the other was draped over Wanda's hips. She sighed happily, and ran her fingers over his arm. "I don't want to get up. I'm too comfortable."
Ian laughed. "We don't have to, just yet," he assured her.
Wanda raised her eyebrows. "They'll be coming in here to work soon, you know."
"Well, it's not like anyone here's unaware of...well, of us."
"Mm, well, no. But I really should be getting up so I can help out—" Wanda made a move as if to sit up, but was prohibited from doing so by Ian's arm when he tightened his grip. She sighed as if exasperated, but flopped down good-naturedly beside her lover, her eyes amused. Now that she was facing him, she placed her cheek against his chest to feel his heartbeat. "When did you get so needy?"
Ian smiled and lifted a hand up to stroke her cheek. "Be a good sport, and stay with me for just a little while longer."
"I suppose I can," Wanda mused. Really, there was no decision. She felt helpless to refuse Ian's requests, even the small ones like a couple extra minutes in bed. Especially those. She was silent for a minute, content to be held against him, to feel the love that radiated from him in warm rays.
"Ian?"
"Yes, Wanda?"
"Do you ever wonder about us? I mean, wonder if there's something wrong with us?" Ian's furrowed his brows, obviously puzzled, so she elaborated. "You know, we're probably a bit of an anomaly. We're not of the same species. We don't even get along, naturally. My kind took over your world. I'm the apocalypse; you're the apocalypsed. It doesn't really make sense. Should you human intuition tell you to run, or something?"
He was quiet for a minute, before answering. "Well, I guess as far as this being the apocalypse, I guess that's true." He paused again. "But...well, I know you're not like the rest of your kind. And maybe—maybe, if they were in the position you're in right now, maybe they would understand. I think about that day, at the hotel, when we saw those soul parents with their little human baby, and it makes me a little hopeful on the inside. I mean, things will never go back to being normal, per say. But maybe they'll get better. Maybe the apocalypse is just a phase."
"Oh." Wanda replied. He leaned close, brushed his lips against her cheek.
"As for there being something wrong with us," he kissed her again, "is there ever anything wrong about love?"
"No," Wanda said slowly, contentedly. "No, of course not."
The mirrors reflected pink and orange light as the sun began to rise in the sky. Wanda held Ian's hand in her small, delicate fingers, drawing out the last few peaceful minutes of the morning. Together, they watched the apocalypse sunrise.
