Genesis:

"I'll do it."  She narrowed her eyes, glaring into his. He blinked in confusion as her hand tightened around his collar.

"No, you won't." His response riled her. That soothing tone and calm demeanor, how dare he doubt her empty threats!

"I'll do it, I swear I will." Her hand shifted. She grabbed the brass key that dangled from his neck, shoving it into the heart shaped lock that hung from hers-- like a prison. Her fingers twitched, itching to turn it. The small gasp that escaped him, whether shock or disbelief, was delightful to her. "Watch me."

Her grip tightened on the key. She was so close to escaping this nightmare. Inside the locket, cold brass moved a fraction of an inch.

Then he smiled.

"It doesn't work that way." A crooked grin turned the corner of his mouth, dark bangs veiling a smug stare. "It has to be our decision, not just yours."

Her heart sank. She knew the rules and apparently, he did too. "Ugh!" She groaned, pushing him with a rough shove. The key dislodged from the lock with a metallic clink before falling back against him.

Then there was silence.

Him. Her. A bare room and a bed. This passed as romance these days. Since the fall of the human race, arranged parenthood was commonplace. Love was no longer a reason to make a baby. Now, survival was.

In the candlelight her eyes were drawn to the key. Fastened with waxed cord, it settled against his shirt like a beacon. It was large. Made of antique brass, it glistened with a taunting gleam. Her hand tightened on the locket around her throat. An iron heart engraved with delicate filigree and a black hole that beckoned to be filled.

It was symbolic. This locket, the perfect match to a single key, was how society now viewed them. But that key was more than a symbol. It was a way out of this room. The only way to escape a life planned without consent.

"Unlock me, please..." She glanced up, hazel eyes miming a silent plea. A resort to begging. If he chose he could end this now and free them both.

A sigh fell between them as he thought. He hated seeing her like this, but unlike her, he was in love. "Sorry sweets, you're stuck with me." He grinned wider and added, "We're a match.~

He'd buried her last hope beneath his smile and in that moment, she could have slapped him.

He shrugged, legs kicking casually against the edge of the bed. "It could be worse though, right?" He tilted his head. Dark strands fell into concerned gold.

"That's easy for you to say, you have the key!" She struggled to focus. To remember. Despite the unknowns the rules were very simple. "But what if we did unlock it?" Her eyes found his again, holding them in question. "What's the worst that could happen?" Determination burned behind her stare.

"Don't be stupid." His words were blunt, but his gaze fell to her locket, intrigued. Surely whatever price it held was too high. "We don't even know what the punishment is. It could be anything."

"Or it could be nothing." She leaned closer. Their shoulders practically touched. "That's the risk, right? If we leave this room, we might lose something valuable." She paused, recalling warnings her grandmother had given her: consequences that cost something precious and irreplaceable. "But at least we'll be free..."

"We can't." It hurt. He wanted so badly to have a life with her. A child. They were matched years ago and now, on her sixteenth birthday, he'd been hopeful she'd want this, too-- the next Adam and Eve, a fate forced upon them by humanity itself. "There's only a handful of fertile matches left."

"Then let them repopulate the Earth!" Her frustration peaked, threatening tears. "We didn't ask for this!" She clenched the bedsheets, fists balled in defeat. "Don't you want a normal life..? A normal family?"

He did. But any life would be a gift if it was with her. "...Okay." He reached out, clasping her hand with a gentle squeeze. "But it'll cost you." There was no hesitation in his offer. He had made up his mind long ago.

"Oh?" Her interest piqued. She straightened, turning on the bed to face him. Whatever it was, she was already considering. "Cost me what?"

"A kiss." He held her gaze, tone serious.

"A kiss?" She repeated the words slowly.

"One kiss." He confirmed. "Then I'll unlock you and we can leave this room." There was no mention of the punishment. No acknowledgement of the consequence the locket held. They both understood the stakes and if this is what she wanted, he would comply.

"You've got a deal." A faint blush painted her cheeks as she imagined. She was grateful he hadn't asked for more, though whatever his request, she would have granted it. "But I've never..." She trailed off, embarrassed. "I'm not sure how."

"I don't think many people know how. Not anymore, at least." It was true. Since the fall, love was a fleeting thing, its passion rarely expressed in physical form. "So don't worry." Lifting a hand, he brushed a blonde strand behind her ear.

"I'm not worried!" She swallowed nervously. Where his fingers touched her ear, it burned.

"You look worried." He was smirking now. "You've known me since we were kids." He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment and leaned closer, caressing her flushed cheek. "There's no reason to be nervous, silly."

"It's just-- it's weird!" Her heart quickened. She'd never noticed how soothing his voice was. How his eyes shifted from copper to gold when they caught the light. "People haven't kissed for years..." Slowly, her anxiety waned as curiousity took its place.

"Maybe so." He whispered, closing the space between them until they were inches apart. "But that won't stop me from kissing you."

She was barely there. Her thoughts scattered. The room was a forgotten place. When his mouth touched the corner of hers, she finally breathed.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lower lip, feather light, then another. The second was less delicate than the first. His warmth was intoxicating. She returned it with her own, breathy and tender and filled with want.

This wasn't a bargaining tool. It wasn't some payment for escape. This was the thing she never knew she always wanted, stopped abruptly by an unclasped lock.

"Wait!" She leaned back, breathless, cheeks bright with heat. But it was too late. As he withdrew the key the locket opened. From its cavity a small scroll, yellowed with age, fell between them. No longer than an inch, it was bound with red thread. "What is it?" Her voice was tempered by dread. The room seemed suddenly too quiet.

"Our punishment." He reached for it. Lifting gently, he held it between his fingers. The scrap of paper felt sacred, somehow. Their eyes met again and exchanged a silent glance, hearts racing. Then he took the string and pulled.

As the binding fell a candle flickered. It extinguished in a hiss, salting the air with smoke. He unrolled the scroll in the ebbing light and examined it with shaky hands. "No..." His breath hitched as he stood, angling it closer to the candles. "That's not possible--"

"What does it say!?" Her voice rose. Panic pulsed through her like a setting sun, fast and hot.

"I don't understand-- this isn't supposed to happen!" He was losing composure. Her hand against his arm was a grounding force that towed him back. "They made a mistake..." He whispered. His complexion was paling before her eyes.

"They don't make mistakes." Her heart dropped, becoming heavy like the locket around her neck. "Tell me what it says!" She pleaded, burdened by the knowledge she was responsible. She licked her lips, tasting the remnants of his kiss. It was the only thing that remained of the life she'd given up.

"There's nothing--" exasperated, he flipped the scroll a fourth time, carefully scanning each side. "It doesn't say anything, it's blank!" His face reflected this newfound truth. Everything they'd been told was a lie.

She tugged his hand into view, staring in disbelief where words should have been. "But how--" as she spoke a metallic rattle echoed in the door. A rusted key turned and the latch of the deadbolt gave way. Their eyes met once more. In a silence that had quickly become eerie, they stood a bit closer. "Is it over?" Her hushed words were broken and afraid.

"I don't know, but I think--" in the distance a siren triggered, blaring an alarming call. The walls of the room vibrated in its wake. "--I think it's just beginning." He grabbed her hand. Lacing their fingers, he tugged her toward the door.

"I'm scared." The look on her face was wrenching. In her eyes he saw their childhood, sad and cold and forever lost.

"I know." He mustered the last of his reassurance. "I am, too. But I don't think we're welcome here anymore." Another blast echoed in the distance, this time closer than before. "Come on! We have to go!

Again he tugged, until the exit stood before them. He grabbed the lever of the door-- an ornately carved serpent, turned it, then pulled. The heavy wood creaked on corroded hinges and opened wide.

"Stay with me." His hand tightened around hers as the last candle died.

"I will." She promised, and she meant it.

When they stepped outside they never looked back.