Soft, nostalgic music plays as we lie down and look up at the stars. There's a fleece blanket beneath us so the roof tiles don't scratch our legs. My hand is intertwined with theirs like it's the most natural thing in the world.

There are worse ways to watch the world end.

"Hey." Sol squeezes my hand, their luminous gold eyes filled with warmth and reassurance, though they seem distracted. "We'll be okay."

"We're all going to die tonight," I murmur.

"I know." They smile sadly.

The music from the old radio is slightly tinny, each note ringing in my ears. Sol hums along. It's quiet tonight.

They point out all the constellations in the sky—the Big and Little Dippers, Cassiopeia, Cygnus the Swan. Some we've visited. Some we haven't.

Some we were going to visit.

But that's not going to happen.

"Do you think we could've done anything else?" I ask Sol softly.

They shake their head. "I don't think so. This was... I mean, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? Eventually?"

I nod slowly. Stars explode. Worlds crumble. It's nothing new. I mean, we were always aware that it would happen.

But there's something different about being here. I can literally count down the minutes my own death.

"Do you believe in an afterlife?" Sol questions.

"I..." I hesitate before answering. I've thought about it a lot, definitely. We all face death daily. "Maybe," I reply. "Maybe not the heaven or hell or death gods or anything, but I believe in a somewhere."

"Somewhere sounds nice," Sol smiles.

A blinding streak of white splits open the sky. I wince. Sol pulls me so close. I feel at home tucked against them. This world, this life, this moment...

"It's starting," I whisper up at them.

My phone buzzes. So the world's finally realized what's happening. No point in answering—I grab my phone and throw it off the roof.

Another white beam shoots across the sky. In the luminous glow, Sol's dark skin seems to shimmer as if they've been dipped in starlight.

"It's calling me," Sol whispers. "The sky, the stars—"

I brush a curl of bright red hair away from their face. "Stay with me." I hug them tightly. "Stay with me."

A third blast of white, this one brighter than the others. I shut my eyes, hold Sol close, try to focus on the music and ignore the sirens below.

"This is it," they say slowly. "The end."

"The end."

Sol presses a gentle kiss to my lips. "This isn't so bad," they murmur.

The sky becomes a pure white expanse. Someone screams on the streets below. Somewhere, a baby is crying.

I shudder and close my eyes, doing my best to block everything out as I grab Sol by the waist and kiss them back. Forget the world. Forget this life. Forget this moment.

It's just Sol and I.

"It's the star spirit," Sol whispers, breaking the kiss. There's panic in their eyes. They press their hand to their chest. "Key, I..." they start to sob. "It wants to leave."

I try to fight back the tears pricking at my own eyes. "Just hang on."

I check the stopwatch on my wrist. We have a minute left. "One more minute," I tell them.

They scream as their image seems to double, a flickering gold replica. I can feel the moon spirit inside of me tugging too, my own silver secret. It longs to lend its strength to the explosion and reunite with the sky. I grew up on Earth, though. I learned how to tame it.

50 seconds.

"Sol," I whisper because I don't trust my voice to break. "Sol. Solstice. Look at me, okay? You can hold on. You can make it."

Their skin shines with perspiration. Their eyes dart around wildly, panicked, but at least the star spirit has gone away. For now. Maybe forever. Maybe the end of the world will dash our souls to pieces until our spirits are all that remain. Maybe we're echoes right now, and this has all happened before and this will all happen again.

43 seconds.

"Remember the earth, Sol," I say. Our limbs are knotted and tangled together like the roots of an ancient oak. "Remember the world. Keep it with you."

The moon—my moon—is invisible in the whited-out sky. Slowly, slowly, the temperature starts to tick upwards.

I bury my face in their shoulder. "I love you, Sol."

"I love you too, Key," they murmur. They're warm. And soft. They feel like home.

I could check my watch for the time, pinpoint the exact moment of my death. But it doesn't feel worth it, as they hold me close. I know it's going to end. I know this and it's terrifying. But if Sol and I can create our own little infinity in the fleeting seconds before our deaths, doesn't that give the end some kind of meaning?

Everything means nothing. It's inescapable. Despite the rising heat, I shiver. I'm cold. I'm always so cold. I won't be cold for long.

Somehow I'm not afraid anymore. The certainty of an ending is tranquil enough. I can feel it creeping up. Any second now. I shudder and pull Sol as close as I can, holding them tightly. The tinny music swells, amplifies, cocooning us in the familiar notes, knitting us together.

There's nothing either of us can do anyways.

The world is void. The void is everything. Their hands comb through my hair, untangling the knots in the silver strands. Reality is so, so thin.

I look up at Sol. The celestial spirit dances inside their gold eyes, but it's given up.

"I'll see you soon," Sol whispers, the words laced with melancholy and bittersweetness.

There's no guarantee. There's no guarantee of anything anymore.

But I'm not alone as everything around us builds up, builds up and forms a wave of sound and light and emotion that crashes over us.

Something snaps.

I shut my eyes as we tip over into nothingness.