Elisabeth was drenched in fear. She had not been out of the house that day, not since she had returned home from Edward’s apartment that morning. She had not accomplished anything that day—had not cleaned the house or made herself lunch or lit the candles when the sky began to grow dark. The ash falling out of the sky had seeped into her small room, had soaked into her skin as she had sat unmoving, barely conscious of her surroundings. Was Edward awake? She wondered. Would he be playing tonight?

She bit down on her nail in nervousness. All day she had waited for the monsters to drag her away, to whip her and force her to work in the mines. Were they looking for her? Had they even noticed she was gone? Elisabeth remembered the exterminations, the way the monsters had taken Adam from her as he screamed. What have happened to him after that? She thought of it often, Adam transformed into a giant piece of machinery, working day after day with rest, for the rest of his life, the subject to torture and mutilations. The guinea pig for all kinds of horrendous experimentation. Or had they simply killed him quickly and used his life energy to power their machines? Elisabeth was startled from the grim thoughts by a soft knock at her door.

The ash was still falling down around him as he stood on her front step waiting patiently for her to answer, if she was even there at all. The ash was soft but the thoughts that it brought to his mind were not. The ash was from the mines, the underground tunnels where all whom the monsters had enslaved to their drums beat the earth with their shovels and picks. He knew of the fires that burned in the earth to turn the steel into molten liquid, used to shape beams and poles, columns, and sheets of buildings. He also knew the monsters burned humans who had become less than exemplary in those fires. The apathy he had lived in for so long had made him forget all the stories of the tunnels Irene had shared with him. The piano had consumed him. No, he thought. The monsters had made the sweet voice of his piano consume him.

He felt the dull pounding in his head typical of this time of night. He knew now that it was the machines urging him to sit and play, to make the piano sing them to sleep, lull away the cares of the day. But this night, Edward was determined not to. He had no love for the monsters, the ones who had stolen away his family, his home ,his country. They had stolen Irene. They had taken away someone from Elizabeth as well. He had sensed it in her that morning when she stood before him, the soft gray of the morning shining through his windows. The soft gray of the evening was burning his soul with panick. He knocked again at her door fervently, desperately, harder than before. Maybe they had taken her away too. Maybe they knew he was standing outside her door.

Edward’s panic intensified. In his fear he heard himself yell for Elizabeth. He beat on the door with his fist, calling her, his patience gone, his mind reeling with the thoughts of what they would do to him if he did not hide from their greasy eyes.

“Elisabeth!” he called again

And by some miracle she opened the door and, without a word, pulled him inside

“Don’t speak,” Elisabeth whispered in the dark. The apartment was dark. The waning sun gave no light to the small room by the door. “I’ve waited for them,” she continued. “All day, I sat in the heat and the silence waiting for them to take me away. They didn’t come.” She drew in her breath unsteadily and gasped as she exhaled. Her hands found their way to his chest and she spread her palms over his bare skin. He was still in his underwear. He smelled like cigarettes, the tar and poison hung heavy on his lips as she pressed her face closer to him, whispering lower out of fear. “I don’t think they know.”

“If they haven’t realized your betrayal, they will surely realize mine,” he said anxiously.

“What?” she asked in a hush, pressing herself closer to his body. Ash was smeared on his arms and back his eyes were glossed with terror.

But he had not the heart to tell her his weary story. Instead, he put an arm around her waist drawing her closer allowing her femininity to soothe away his fears. The pounding in his brain subsided. Elisabeth lay her head lightly against him as Edward wrapped her in his other arm. They waited, swaying in the front room, dark and hot, sweat running down both of their faces. Would the monsters come? What would they do to them when they found them entangled such as this? It was a crime in their eyes, for an embrace could lead to organic sex, and that led to unregistered human young, who were not bred for top quality work in the tunnels.

Did Edward care anymore? Did Elisabeth? He touched the woman’s face and moved to kiss her as he had once kissed Irene. If the monsters found them together they would surely be killed and that was better than living in fear, wasn’t it? Surely it was. A fire of defiance burned suddenly in Edward and he kissed Elisabeth as if he had never kissed anyone else in his life. He moved with her down the hallway, took her into the dark bedroom. She stretched out on the bed, letting him lay down beside her, touch her, move with her. He felt her in his soul, in his brain, as he pushed hard against her in the dark. They were one, two lost pieces fit together. It did not matter what the monsters did to them once they realized what had happened this night.

He lay in a trance, Elisabeth curled beside him, her head resting gently in the crook of his armpit. His desire was sated, and the weariness was overcoming him. He glanced longingly at the woman next to him, and rubbed her head, feeling the smooth length of her hair. She had met his every move, as if she were an extension of him. Elisabeth pressed against him in her sleep. She trailed her hand over him, lightly rubbing over his chest and down his stomach. He wondered if the monsters knew they were together. He wondered if they cared. He closed his eyes.