I found this flash fiction I wrote and kind of like:

They clung to each other as the world was ending, having met only a few hours before. While everyone else lay dying in the street they talked to each other about childhood pets, the houses they had left behind, and their favorite things to eat for breakfast. As the sun came up on the almost empty world, they slowly realized that they had made a grave mistake and didn’t really like each other after all and they stood up, stretched their sore muscles and began looking for someone else to love, but the sea had been emptied and all they had left was each other. When they are feeling particularly jovial, they both agree that the world ending on their first date was a rather unfortunate stroke of luck and perhaps if they had only gone out on a different day things would’ve gone better. They wander around, picking apples off the trees and sometimes they find each other again and every time he comments, “You know, it’s a lot of pressure being the last man left on Earth” and she agrees, but adds, “It’s even worse for me, I’m expected to repopulate.” He nods and they talk about it and they both agree not have a baby, because it isn’t the right time for them. They were both planning on waiting. They should at least wait until they have a stable way of killing animals and finding shelter.