Alone at the end of the world...
The ice on the window panes signified the end of the world.
He pressed a palm against the frosted glass, melting the shape of his hand into the ice then watched as it froze back over, the shape of his trembling hand preserved forever against the glass.
He was accustomed to being alone. It was no surprise. To find himself gazing head on into the coming of a forever winter night. Alone. Afraid. With nowhere to run.
A mismatched pair of socks sat beside him. Found in the washing machine on the morning of the last day of the future; each missing their match, plastered to those feet run somewhere without him.
"I'll look after you..." A voice throbbed from the background full of static, that promise forever said, forever meant. Almost too late.
He felt arms wrap around him. Protecting him. Begging to be protected.
"So don't be afraid,"
When he said 'I love you' with an intensity that burned hotter than that white light, blinding them... the last words he heard before the roar deafened them.
In the darkness... Alone.
He wished it was true.