In Ten Universes (Catnipz)

Universe 1.0

"Haerin..." Minji's voice was barely a whisper, almost swallowed by the silence. "I... I'm sorry."

It felt like the words weren't enough, like they could never be enough to fix what had happened. Minji took a step forward, her mind racing, unsure of what to do. She wanted to reach out, to comfort Haerin, but the distance between them felt insurmountable.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The room was heavy with the weight of the silence, the unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.

Finally, Haerin lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but there was something in her gaze that made Minji falter. It wasn't anger. It wasn't even sadness. It was something far worse: resignation.

Haerin didn't say a word, but the look she gave Minji spoke volumes; too many, too complicated for Minji to fully understand. Instead, Haerin wiped her face with the back of her hand, trying to steady herself.

"I'm fine," Haerin whispered, her voice barely audible, her words as cold as the room. "Just... leave me alone."

Minji's heart sank, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. Not yet. Not like this. She just stood there, watching as Haerin slowly tried to collect herself, the air thick with the things neither of them knew how to say.

Minji hesitated for a moment, but then she slowly lowered herself to the floor beside Haerin, careful not to invade her space. She sat just a few inches away, close enough to be there but far enough to respect the unspoken boundary Haerin had put up. The silence between them stretched on, thick and heavy, but Minji stayed, her presence quiet and steady.

She didn't know what to say, didn't know if words could make any difference right now. So she simply stayed, her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her, her hands resting loosely in her lap.

Haerin didn't acknowledge her, her head still lowered, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Minji could see the faint tremors that shook Haerin's shoulders, though Haerin made no sound. The tears had stopped, but the weight of everything that had happened was still there, heavy in the air around them.

Minji's heart ached, and a part of her wanted to reach out, to comfort Haerin in a way that felt right, but she didn't. She knew Haerin needed space, time. Minji just hoped that by sitting here, quietly, she could offer some small amount of reassurance that she wasn't alone.

The room felt warmer with Minji there, though neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the soft breaths they took, the stillness wrapping around them like a fragile cocoon.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Minji broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. "I'm sorry," she said again, her words quieter now, almost like a prayer. "I should've done something."

Haerin turned her head slightly, just enough to look at Minji out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't say anything. She didn't need to. There was something in that simple glance that told Minji more than words ever could; a quiet acknowledgment, a fleeting moment of understanding between them.

Haerin's movement was sudden, unexpected, and yet it felt like the natural response. Without a word, she turned towards Minji and, in a swift motion, wrapped her arms around her. It wasn't aggressive or hurried; more like a silent plea for comfort, a simple gesture of vulnerability.

Minji stiffened at first, unsure of how to react. Her heart skipped a beat as Haerin's small frame pressed against hers, her arms hugging Minji tightly, almost like a child seeking reassurance. For a moment, Minji just sat there, frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

But then, something shifted in her. She slowly relaxed, her arms tentative at first, but then she returned the hug, her hands gently resting on Haerin's back. It wasn't the most natural thing for Minji, but it felt important, this small act of kindness.

Haerin's head rested against Minji's chest, her breath warm against her. Her grip tightened slightly, almost as though she was afraid Minji might disappear if she let go. Minji felt the weight of that, the silent desperation for comfort, for connection.

Minji didn't speak, but she held Haerin close, offering her warmth and a sense of security. She couldn't fix everything, couldn't undo what had happened, but right now, she could at least give Haerin this moment of peace. She would be there, even if just for this.

The room felt quieter somehow, the tension melting away, and for the first time that day, Minji allowed herself to feel a small sense of relief. Haerin wasn't alone anymore. And neither was she.

Eros leaned back against his ethereal throne, his smile impossibly smug as he watched the scene unfold. He'd been watching from the very beginning, enjoying every quiet moment between Haerin and Minji. It was exactly what he had predicted.

"See, Eris," he said with a sly, almost teasing tone, his voice rich with self-satisfaction. "I told you true love exists. Look at that. The beginnings of something real."

Eris, who had been observing with a cold, dispassionate stare, didn't flinch at his words. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, her lips curling into a slight, challenging smile.

"Don't get cocky too soon, Eros," she replied, her voice sharp, tinged with warning. "It's still too early to call. One universe doesn't prove anything."

Eros raised an eyebrow, but his smile didn't fade. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. This... this is just the start of something beautiful."

Eris waved a dismissive hand, her expression cool and unbothered. "Just get the next universe ready. The game isn't over yet, and the odds are still in my favor. We'll see how long this... love lasts."

Eros chuckled softly, clearly unconcerned. "It'll last longer than you think." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a quiet confidence. "But I suppose we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

Eris didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking toward the unfolding scene in the current universe. Then, with a swift motion, she turned her attention to the next stage of their bet. "Prepare it, then. We move on to the next."

And just like that, the playful banter between the gods faded, both of them already focused on the next move in their endless, cosmic game.