I had always wondered what my first time would be like.
But not once did I ever think that losing my virginity would cause others to die.
That my first time would also be my last.
I could feel them coming for us. I could almost sense their collective desperation in keeping us apart. They would burn the entire town; immolate every last person in order to stop this abomination from happening. I rattled the locked door in the lighthouse, knowing it would buy us only a few moments at best. A few final kisses.
When this all began mere weeks ago, when my entire universe was forever altered, I would never have dreamt of taking such incredibly selfish action. Action that was tantamount to genocide. But I was no longer that same girl. They had made damn sure of that.
I would not die wondering.
I took his hand in mine and placed it against my cheek. His touch instantly made my insides turn to liquid. We no longer had to abstain – no longer had to wait. Death was coming for us.
I was adamant to meet it on my own terms.
We locked eyes. So much was being said through the silent intensity of our gaze, through the teardrops that now fell freely. Declarations of love mixed with the sadness of goodbye all present in the saltwater staining our faces. I could easily have stood there for eternity, but time’s cruelty ripped us from our reverie as we felt the temperature suddenly spike. The palpable heat between us was now dwarfed by something hotter, something darker. Our candle was about to be engulfed by the sun.
It was coming to burn us; it was coming to turn us to ash.