The room was immersed in the golden half-light of candles when Lucia turned toward Marco, her dark eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness.
“If tomorrow is the end,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “…I don’t want to spend this night alone.”
Marco grazed her face with his fingers, following the contour of her jawline. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
She took his hand, bringing it to her chest. “Sometimes I think about those two in the Garden. Adam and Eve. Before everything changed.”
“Before shame,” he said, moving closer.
“Exactly.” Lucia closed her eyes for a moment. “They must have been so free. Before knowing.”
Their lips met, sweet at first, then with greater urgency. Marco drew her close, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin nightgown.
“Come here,” Lucia whispered, pulling him toward the bed. “I want you near me.”
They lost themselves in each other, hands exploring, mouths seeking.
“Pierce me to the heart.”
There was desire, yes, but also something deeper—the desperation of those who know time is about to end, the need to cling to something real while everything around collapses. He remained inside her for several seconds, watching her face suffuse with pleasure.
Lucia held him tightly, digging her fingers into his back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered in his ear. “Never stop.”
Their bodies moved together, finding an ancient, instinctive rhythm. She arched her back, a low moan escaping her lips. Marco hid his face in her neck, breathing in her scent as the rest of the world vanished.
The night slipped away in waves of pleasure and tenderness, moments of intense passion alternating with silences where they simply looked at each other, touched each other’s faces, memorized every detail.
When the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, they lay exhausted among the sheets, bodies still close, fingers intertwined.
The insistent ringing of the telephone woke them around ten. Marco stretched a numb hand toward the nightstand.
“Hello?”
“Marco! Finally! Are you alright? We’ve been looking for you all night!” It was his brother Stefano’s hysterical voice.
“Yes, of course we’re fine. At least for a little while longer.”
“The alarm! That comet thing that was supposed to…” Stefano broke off. “Wait, haven’t you heard the retraction?”
Marco sat up, still confused. “What retraction?”
“It was a mistake! The comet didn’t miss the earth!”
Lucia woke up, rubbing her eyes. “Who is it?”
Marco looked at her, then burst into liberating yet embarrassed laughter. “My brother. He says that… well, it’s not going to happen.”
“What wasn’t true?”
“The end of the world. It was an error.”
Lucia stared at him for a long moment, then covered her face with her hands. It wasn’t clear whether she was laughing or mortified. “So we spent the night… because we believed a mistake?”
“Apparently so.”
They looked at each other in silence. Then Lucia really began to laugh, a contagious laugh that soon involved him too.
“Are you still there?” came from the phone.
“Yes, Stefano. Thanks for letting us know. We’re… we’re fine.”
He ended the call and turned to Lucia, who still had eyes glistening from laughter.
“What fools,” she said.
Marco drew her close again. “The biggest fools in the world. In the world that, by the way, still exists.”
“And will continue to exist,” Lucia murmured against his chest.
“Yes. At least for today.”
They remained like that, embraced in the rumpled bed, while outside the city awakened to a perfectly normal morning. The world had not ended. But something, nevertheless, had changed in what Marco and Lucia considered pleasure.
