Future Darkly: Pandemic - Anna and Alex

Anna’s on the couch in leggings and a sports bra, blonde hair in a messy ponytail, phone blaring some podcast while she half-asses a few stretches. Alex sits at the table, eyes on his laptop, trying to stay focused. The digital frame behind them keeps flicking through their old shots—rock climbing, ski trips, the two of them tangled on some beach, looking stupidly in love. The podcaster suddenly drops the line: county restrictions are lifted. Anna freezes, then bolts up, practically vibrating. Alex glances over, hears it too, shoots his boss a one-line “BRB—lunch,” and bolts for the door. A few minutes later he’s on her porch in a full-body hazard suit, gloves, goggles, the whole circus. He knocks like the cops are behind him. Anna opens up wearing the same get-up. They both lose it—“God, I missed you”—then lean in for a hug and stop short, laughing at how weird it feels. She waves him inside. Temperature check, quick questionnaire, green light. The second the paperwork’s done they’re talking over each other about how badly they want skin on skin, but nerves kick in. They decide the suits stay on—for now. They plant themselves on the couch, opposite ends, then inch closer until knees bump. Hands hover, then start brushing over the crinkly plastic, exploring through the layers. It’s clumsy, it’s hot, it’s them remembering how to touch. The world says it’s safe to come outside; Anna and Alex are still figuring out if they are.