The Heartwood was dead quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the eerie, did-everyone-get-abducted-while-I-was-working? kind. Every light in the building had been switched off, except for the dim glow coming from the Event Department. Inside, Eros sat hunched over his desk, eyes glued to the mess of timelines and schedules in front of him. Every single minute needed to be accounted for—if things went off track, he'd lose his mind.
The occasional rustle of paper and the low hum of the coffee machine weren't enough to drown out the overwhelming silence that wrapped around him like a thick blanket. It was the kind of silence that made every little sound feel too loud. His own sighs—deep, exhausted, and borderline dramatic—were the only real proof that he was still functioning after all the sleepless nights he'd pulled for this upcoming event.
He was mid-sentence, trying to decode some barely legible notes, when he heard it—a creak. The kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like someone was hesitantly trying to push it open. His head snapped toward the glass door, breath hitching. His chair screeched as he straightened up, eyes locked on the entrance like a man bracing for an ambush. His heart leapt into his throat for a split second before it tumbled right back down as in stepped a familiar figure, bathed in the dim light of the office.
"Eros?" Selene's voice was laced with surprise as she shut the door behind her with the careful precision of someone who had no interest in triggering a jump scare.
"God, it's just you." Eros exhaled dramatically, collapsing back into his chair like a man who had just survived a near-death experience. He stretched, his joints popping in protest. Then, blinking at her, he narrowed his eyes. "Wait—why are you here? Didn't you clock out at six?"
Selene strolled over, stealing an unoccupied office chair from another staff member and plopping down across from him. "Forgot some paperwork I need done by morning," she explained, crossing her arms. "I thought I was alone, but when I saw the lights on, I figured I'd check."
Eros hummed in acknowledgment, already shifting his focus back to the stack of documents in front of him.
"But why are you here?" Selene pressed, eyeing the mess on his desk with mild amusement.
"Ah, I'm fixing some last-minute details for the vow renewal ceremony this weekend," He gestured vaguely at the chaotic mess of papers in front of him before dramatically dropping his head into his hands with an exaggerated groan. "It's lowkey driving me nuts."
Selene snorted, taking in the war zone of papers, sticky notes, and abandoned coffee cups that had taken over his workspace. "Don't you have your own office?" Eros groaned, half-heartedly stacking some papers starting to gather the scattered documents into something that vaguely resembled organization. "I do, but working alone bores the hell out of me. So, I got a desk here with the team." He gestured vaguely around him. "Now I have both my personal office and this spot."
Selene raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Talk about VIP treatment."
Eros shot her an offended look, his hands pausing mid-straighten. "Oh, hell no. Aretha didn't just hand this over—I had to beg." His expression twisted as if recalling some dark, traumatizing memory, and he physically shook the thought away like a wet dog.
"And don't you have your own office?" He fired back, giving her a knowing look.
Selene tilted her head slightly before nodding. "Yeah, but I like to be out of here by six. Can't have people thinking my entire life revolves around work." She let out a sigh, voice quieter this time. "…Even if it kinda does." Eros snorted.
Selene's gaze drifted to the coffee cup sitting on Eros' desk, steam curling lazily into the air like a ghost reluctant to leave. Without a second thought, she reached over and swiped it, the warmth immediately seeping into her fingers. She cradled it in both hands, bringing it up to her face, inhaling the deep, rich aroma of roasted coffee beans mixed with an almost overwhelming hit of vanilla syrup.
Intrigued, she took a sip.
Big mistake.
Her eyes shot open, practically doubling in size as she recoiled, leaning back so fast she nearly tipped her chair over. The taste was ridiculously good. Suspiciously good. Like, there's-no-way-this-came-from-our-janky-office-coffee-machine good.
Eros, who had been watching gave her a weird look, he raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "First time having coffee?"
Selene whipped her head toward him, still gripping the cup like it was the last bit of warmth on a freezing day. She jabbed a finger at it accusingly. "I didn't know our coffee machine could make this."
Without waiting for an invitation, she curled up in her chair, pulling her feet up to her chest as she took another sip. Bliss. Pure bliss. Then, in a completely matter-of-fact tone, she announced, "From now on, your coffee is my coffee. 6:30 AM, sharp. I expect a fresh cup on my desk every day."
Eros shot her a look, or more of an unimpressed glare. "Am I the coffee machine or what?" he muttered under his breath, but before she could respond, he casually shoved a thick stack of papers toward her. Selene blinked down at them, then back up at him, confused.
Eros leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand with the fakest, sweetest smile imaginable. "Well, since you're here and you've decided to demand a daily coffee service, shouldn't you at least be useful?"
Selene let out an exaggerated scoff, puffing out her cheeks in protest before grabbing the stack of papers with an annoyed huff. With a dramatic pout, she shuffled over to the desk beside Eros, sitting properly this time as she spread out the documents in front of her. Fine. If he was going to put her to work, at least she'd see what this was all about.
One of the biggest events happening at Heartwood right now was the upcoming Renewal of Vows weekend—a special ceremony for couples looking to reaffirm their commitment to each other. Aside from the patients in the medical wing, the retreat functioned as a sanctuary for relationships on the brink, giving couples a last-ditch chance to fix their issues before calling it quits. Some struggled to hold on, others just needed a push in the right direction. And right now, all of them were Eros' problem.
For days, he had been buried under a mountain of planning, ensuring every detail was accounted for. Selene skimmed through the documents, quickly recognizing a few familiar names among the participating couples. Some of them were her patients.
There were nine couples signed up for the event, stretched out over three days—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—with three ceremonies per day. Morning, noon, and night. A relentless, back-to-back schedule.
"Since some of the couples here are also patients from the medical wing, I need confirmation from you and the other doctors on whether they're stable enough to participate," Eros said without looking up, his eyes glued to his event timeline, laser-focused on finalizing every second of the schedule. He had everything laid out—who was speaking when, when each couple would exchange their vows, the exact start and end times for receptions—down to the minute.
Selene leaned in slightly, stealing a peek at the program. Each ceremony lasted three hours, structured like clockwork, with a precise sequence of events. Beside the main schedule, Eros had mapped out a clean, detailed program layout, complete with timings, agenda notes, and key points for every segment.
She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a sense of admiration. "Damn," she muttered, nodding in approval as she flipped through the pages. He really thought of everything.
It was impressive—how methodical and prepared he was, how he threw himself into every event with dedication. She had seen him do this before, but every time, it was like watching an artist at work, perfectly orchestrating chaos into something seamless.
He really suits this job, Selene thought to herself, stealing a quick glance at him before returning to the documents.6
Selene absentmindedly rubbed her upper lip, deep in thought as she scanned the paperwork Eros had dumped on her. Her eyes flickered over a particular section, and she squinted, rereading it just to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
"Spouses will give love letters to their wives, along with a gift of their choice?" she read aloud, her tone caught somewhere between curiosity and mild disbelief.
Eros glanced up from his work, then followed her gaze to the program details before responding. "Ah, that?" He reached over, flipping to another page and tapping a neatly written paragraph with his finger. "It's part of the ceremony wrap-up. Before everything officially ends, the spouses will read their letters and give their gifts."
A small chuckle escaped him as he leaned back. "Some people struggle with writing their vows, so we've set up a Vow Assistance Desk—basically, a help station for anyone who needs a little inspiration. Some couples wrote a draft of theirs already." He gestured to a thick stack of papers beside him. "Same deal with the love letters, except we're not helping them with that. It's supposed to be personal—whatever they want to write, whatever sentimental gift they want to give."
Eros nodded toward a separate pile—handwritten love letters neatly stacked beside the sample vows. His gaze lingered on them for a moment before he muttered, almost to himself, "It's cute."
Selene barely held back a snort, her eyes lazily drifting over the page again. "What a cliché," she whispered under her breath.
Eros turned to her with a quirked brow, but before he could comment, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, sinking deeper into the seat like she was trying to disappear into it. "I once had an ex who made all these big, poetic promises but never fulfilled any of them." She stated it so casually, like she was just mentioning the weather, but the bitterness in her voice was undeniable.
Eros blinked, caught off guard.
"…Love letters my ass," she muttered, flipping a page. "Promises are just meant to be broken."
Eros studied her for a moment, his brows furrowing. I don't remember adding salt to that coffee.
Then again, considering her relationship history, it made sense. If he had been through all that, he might be just as cynical. He gave a slow, thoughtful nod to himself, eyes drifting back to his own paperwork. Yeah… if I went through all that, I probably wouldn't love again either.
Just as Eros was about to refocus on his work, Selene suddenly straightened in her chair, her back snapping upright like she'd been hit with a revelation. If this were a cartoon, there would have been a literal lightbulb flickering to life above her head.
She gasped dramatically, her eyes lighting up with mischief as she shot her hand forward, pointing at the stack of sample vows and love letters like she had just uncovered the world's greatest treasure.
"What if we read some of these?" she blurted out, her voice brimming with excitement.
Eros, caught completely off guard, practically jumped in his seat, his heart slamming against his ribcage. His hand instinctively flew to his chest like he needed to physically hold his soul in place. "Jesus, give a trigger warning before pulling a stunt like that!" he wheezed, glaring at her with a mix of annoyance and secondhand heart failure. Still gripping his chest like an old man recovering from a mild heart attack, he shot her an unamused look, his lips pressing into a thin, unimpressed line. "Yeah, for you to criticize how corny the lines are?"
Selene huffed, crossing her arms as she looked away dramatically. "What? No! I'm just curious!" Eros stared at her, deadpan. She shifted under his gaze before crossing her arms and looking away. "…Okay, fine, maybe they're a little cringe," she admitted, wrinkling her nose. Eros had just started to return to his paperwork, signing as he dismissed her antics, when her next words made him pause. "But I'm still curious! How do vows actually sound?"
Something in her tone made him look up again, this time more carefully. He met her gaze, his own eyes widening slightly in realization. "…Wait," he said slowly, pointing a finger at her. "You've never been to a wedding before?"
Selene raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that screamed Was that not obvious? "Well, yeah," she said with a shrug. "I wouldn't be curious If I knew."
Eros blinked. Then blinked again.
"Huh."
For some reason, he had just assumed she had been to at least one wedding in her life. But thinking about it now, it made sense. She never talked about attending weddings, never mentioned anything remotely close to it.
Shaking his head, he exhaled through his nose before grabbing the stack of sample vows and love letters, flipping through them until he had a handful. "Fine," he muttered, spreading five neatly folded sample vows in front of her. "Pick one."
Selene scanned the options like she was selecting a dish off a menu, before grabbing the middle one and handing it to him. Eros unfolded the paper, cleared his throat, and began reading aloud.
"…Success is easy. I can succeed with anyone. But I want to fail with you. I want to struggle with you. And if the world were ending tomorrow, I'd want my last breath with you."
The sentence earned a visible grimace from Selene, Eros, oblivious of the reactions kept going.
"I vow to love you in every version of ourselves, in every chapter yet to come. I vow to stand beside you, not only when the sun shines, but when the night is long and uncertain. I vow to choose you, over and over, in every lifetime, in every tomorrow."
Eros snapped the paper shut, exhaling through his nose as he turned to Selene. She sat frozen, her lips twitching, fingers curled lightly around the edge of the desk like she was bracing for impact.
"Haha… wow~" she finally managed, voice tight. "That was… moving."
Her attempt at sincerity was laughably bad. Her face, however, was even worse. The way her eyebrows had slightly pinched together, how she blinked one too many times—Eros had seen less pained expressions from people ripping off wax strips.
He sighed, running a hand down his face before slumping back in his chair. "What exactly did you expect from a wedding vow?"
Selene tilted her head, raising a perfectly sculpted brow like it should be obvious. Then, with the air of a performer stepping onto stage, she straightened her back and clasped her hands together dramatically.
With an exaggeratedly solemn voice, she declared,
"I, Selene Baek, take you, Eros, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
Eros stopped breathing.
His mind blanked so hard it might as well have crashed.
The moment she uttered his name in that sentence, something in his brain glitched. His brain short-circuited so hard he might as well have blue-screened. His thoughts scrambled like a computer with a bad connection, trying desperately to reboot while his heartbeat decided to punch dance against his ribs.
Selene, completely unaware that she had just committed verbal homicide on his composure, sat back with a smug look, clearly satisfied with herself.
Eros blinked. Once. Twice. His hands twitched where they rested on the desk.
Then, after a brief moment of silence, with a sharp scoff, a very forced scoff, he let out a short, suspiciously nervous laugh—one that came out way too high-pitched for his usual voice. He immediately regretted it. His heart was thudding far too quickly, and for some stupid reason, he felt warm. Was the room always this hot?
Clearing his throat, he leaned back in his chair, tilting his chin up in a pathetic attempt to mask whatever flustered feeling was creeping up his spine. He crossed his arms as his leg bounced slightly under the desk.
"I-It's too scripted," he blurted out, voice a little too quick. His gaze falling everywhere, suddenly very interested in the corner of the room. "Anyone could say that without actually meaning it." The words came out too fast, too defensive—like he was running from something. He gulped, before whispering under his breath. "Like you." He definitely wasn't thinking about the way her voice had actually sounded kind of nice saying that.
Selene, however, was sharp. She let out a knowing laugh, leaning in ever so slightly, her eyes glinting with mischief. Her eyes lit up in amusement as she leaned in just a fraction, a sly smirk creeping onto her lips. "Oh?" she drawled, tilting her head. Eros squinted at her, sensing danger. "What?" Selene's smirk widened. "Since you clearly think you can do better—why don't we see you write a vow?"
Eros inhaled sharply, immediately regretting every decision that led him to this moment.
He stared at her. Then at the blank paper in front of him.
Then back at her.
Then back at the paper.
Selene raised an expectant eyebrow.
He could not back down.
With an overly dramatic sigh, he grabbed a pen and threw himself into the task, furrowing his brows as if he were drafting a groundbreaking scientific discovery. The next few minutes were filled with a chorus of exaggerated sighs, pen taps, and the occasional muttered, "Ugh, no, that sounds stupid."
It took longer than expected—he kept pausing, tapping the pen against his temple, groaning under his breath like this was actual labor.
Selene, who was now thoroughly enjoying herself, leaned on her elbows, watching Eros think carefully like a sitcom.
Eros scratched something out aggressively. "Who even writes this stuff?"
"You, apparently," she quipped.
"Shut up."
He scribbled a bit more, lips pressed together like this was a matter of national security.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he shoved the paper toward her with a deadpan look.
"Here," he muttered.
Selene plucked the paper from the desk, her grin wicked. "Oh, this better be good."
Selene took the paper with the utmost seriousness, though the corners of her lips twitched in betrayal. She straightened her spine as if preparing for a presidential address, shoulders squared, chin lifted. A few exaggerated coughs followed—ahem, ahem—as if clearing not just her throat but also any trace of amusement threatening to escape.
Then, for added effect, she dramatically tapped at her throat, muttering a series of experimental "Ahh, ahh" sounds, like a performer testing a microphone before a grand speech. She even tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear in a practiced, almost theatrical motion before finally lowering her gaze to the paper. With a deep, steadying breath—one that belonged more to an actor about to deliver a monologue than someone reading a vow—she began.
My Beloved Selene,
From the moment my own arrow betrayed me, I knew no other truth but you. The gods may command the heavens, but nothing—no decree, no wrath, no force of time—will sever what has taken root in my soul.
No matter what name the universe dares to give us, our souls are bound beyond time, beyond realms, beyond the whims of gods and destiny itself. If ever darkness clouds our path, I will be your light.
In all universes, in all dimensions, no matter what masks we wear or what lives we are forced to lead, I will find you. Whether as a whisper in the wind, a touch in a crowded street, or the deja vu that I have loved you long before I knew your name—our love will defy every rewriting of fate.
I vow to love you as the stars love the night. I vow to protect you, even from myself, if fate makes me forget and cause you pain. Even if all memory of this vow is stolen from me, even if the world conspires to make me forget, I vow that if destiny grants me even a sliver of remembrance, I will look back at my memoir and see you—as a stained glass mosaic pieced by time.
Even if the gods stand against us, even if I must search through a thousand lifetimes, I will love you, I will find you, and I will know you again.
For I am yours, Selene, now and in every world there will ever be.
Eros
Selene's eyes traced the ink on the paper, but her mind refused to process the words. It was as if her thoughts had been yanked into a void, leaving her suspended in a place where time did not move. The air brushing against her skin turned sharp and icy, a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled the room moments ago. The ever-present white noise—the faint hum of the coffee machine, the distant chirping of crickets, the subtle rustling of papers—vanished. Silence wrapped around her like a suffocating cocoon, pressing into her ears until it felt like she had been thrown into an anechoic chamber.
Then, the pain came.
A crushing ache bloomed in her chest, her heart folding into itself as if it were trying to collapse. Was this panic? Anxiety? Neither label seemed to fit. It was something else entirely, something foreign yet eerily familiar.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the paper tighter, eyes scanning the vow over and over. The flow of the words, the rhythm, the choice of phrases—she knew this. She felt this. Familiarity was an understatement to the mix of emotions she felt in an instant after reading the vow. Not just in a distant, déjà vu kind of way, but in the marrow of her bones, in the depths of her soul.
She couldn't move.
Her body, unresponsive, remained frozen in place as a sharp, stinging pain coiled around her skull, like a force tightening its grip. It was a migraine—severe, searing—but somehow, she didn't react. She didn't wince, didn't clutch her head. It was as if she had been separated from herself, watching her own agony from the outside.
Then, a snap.
"Selene?"
The sound shattered the silence like glass meeting concrete. In an instant, the world rushed back. The rustling of paper, the hum of the coffee machine, the soft creak of chairs shifting, the chirping of crickets outside—it all crashed into her senses at once. A shuddering breath left her lips as she clutched her chest, realization dawning when she saw her own hand move. The pain was gone. The crushing sensation in her ribs, the migraine—it had disappeared as if it had never been there.
Her gaze lifted, meeting Eros' worried eyes. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Are you alright?"
He was close—leaning slightly toward her, his hands resting on the armrests of her chair. She swallowed hard, forcing composure back into place as she dropped the paper onto the table. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment, noticing the creases along the edges where Eros had gripped it in frustration. The evidence of his struggle was there—scribbled-out words, erased lines, the lingering imprint of indecision.
She opened her mouth to respond, to brush it off like she always did, but Eros' brows knitted together slightly before he pointed to her face. "Why are you crying?"
Selene stiffened.
Crying?
Her fingers flew to her cheeks, pressing against damp skin. Her breath hitched at the realization—tears. She hadn't even noticed them. What the fuck?
A bolt of confusion struck through her, sharp and sudden. Why? She hadn't felt herself break, hadn't felt the shift from stillness to sorrow, yet here she was, wiping away tears she didn't even know she had shed.
"What? Why am I crying, huh? What the fuck." The words tumbled out, half to herself, half to Eros.
She wiped at her cheeks hastily, as if erasing the evidence would make the feeling—whatever it was—disappear. With a small huff, she leaned back into her chair, drawing her knees up toward her chest, seeking the comfort of her own embrace. "No, it's nothing," she muttered, voice quieter now. "I don't know... I didn't even notice."
Her gaze flickered to her fingertips, glistening with the trace of something her mind refused to name.
Eros leaned back in his chair, the corner of his lips curling into a smug, knowing smile. "Was my vow that good?"
Selene huffed, rolling her eyes before grabbing the paper and crumpling it in her fist. Without hesitation, she tossed it at him. "I knew you'd say that."
Eros caught it mid-air, slight irritation flashing across his face as he tried to smooth out the creases. His fingertips ghosted over the fragile fibers, tracing the indents of hurriedly erased words, the evidence of frustration seen in the slightly smudged ink. His jaw tightened as he shot her a glare—not of anger, but mild exasperation—before his eyes dropped back to the vow.
Selene studied him for a moment before tilting her head slightly, her voice shifting from playful to contemplative. "How did you even come up with this?" Her brows furrowed. "Why'd you bring up gods, universes—even memory loss—like you actually experienced what you wrote?"
Eros stilled.
The paper in his hands suddenly felt heavier.
A slow exhale left his lips as he stared at the words again, as if seeing them for the first time. The question echoed in his mind, setlling in a way he hadn't expected. "I don't know," he admitted after a pause, his voice quieter now. "I just let my mind write for me." He shrugged slightly, fingers absentmindedly running along the paper's edge. "It felt right to write those words, you know?"
His gaze lifted to meet hers, and he noticed the shift in her expression. The teasing glint in her eyes was gone, replaced by something deeper, more serious.
"It felt kind of familiar too," he murmured, as if confessing something to himself more than to her. His eyes drifted to the desk, unfocused. "Like I was supposed to write that vow." A crease formed between his brows. "Like I've written a vow before."
The thought gnawed at him. When he had written it, he hadn't questioned the words. He had simply known what to say. But now, in the silence that stretched between them, the irrationality of it all disturbed him. He was logical, rational—he did know as a god that dimensions and past lives existed. Yet, the words had flowed as if pulled from something buried deep within him, something older than memory itself. Something he didn't know of, but was stored in his subconscious.
Selene swallowed, shifting slightly in her chair. "T-Then you should've signed yourself up for the event," she muttered, an attempt to break the strange weight in the air.
Eros smirked, slipping back into his usual confidence. "Who's my bride, you?"
Selene had just taken a sip of coffee when the words left his mouth. She choked—violently.
The hot liquid burned down the wrong pipe, spilling onto the front of her blouse as she coughed. The shock was immediate, her body jolting from the reaction as she clumsily set the cup down.
"Shit—"
Eros reacted before she could. His chair scraped against the floor as he shot forward, snatching a handful of tissues in a rush to help. His movements were swift, instinctive—like muscle memory he didn't recognize.
Selene barely registered the warmth of his fingers brushing against her arm as he tried to pat the stain dry. Her mind was too consumed by something else entirely—Why did I react like that?
Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, confusion wrapping around her like a vice. It was a joke. A stupid, thoughtless joke. So why had her body betrayed her? Why had her hands trembled? Why had her pulse spiked—not from embarrassment, but from something else?
Eros, too, seemed slightly shaken, though he masked it well. His concern, however, was genuine. His hands hovered slightly as he watched her stand, a sense of hesitation in his expression. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she blurted, a little too quickly. She turned away, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her face. "I'll go to the washroom to clean this off."
Eros hesitated but nodded.
Just as Selene was about to head to the washroom, the lights flickered—once, twice—before the entire room was swallowed in darkness.
The sudden blackout sent a jolt of terror through her, one so intense that an electric chair would have felt like a mere static shock in comparison. She barely had time to think before instinct took over.
With a blood-curdling scream that could rival a horror movie protagonist, she spun on her heel and bolted back toward Eros. In the pitch-black chaos, she nearly crashed into him, she clung to him like a lifeline. Her hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt, her head buried against his chest as if it were the only thing keeping her from being dragged into the abyss. Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to acknowledge whatever horrors lurked in the eerie darkness of Heartwood.
And she knew it was eerie.
Heartwood was ethereal by design—grand, celestial, almost otherworldly. Even the smaller rooms, like the Event Department's office or a simple storage room, carried an air of divine beauty. But in the absence of light? That elegance twisted into something out of a gothic nightmare. The high ceilings, the intricately carved walls, the towering windows—they all melted into a void too horrible, making the space look less like a retreat and more like the perfect setting for a haunted asylum. There was no way in hell she was walking through those endless, shadow-filled corridors alone just to reach the washroom.
Meanwhile, Eros was… well, stunned.
Not by the blackout—he could handle that. But by the very human missile that had just launched itself into his arms.
His body tensed, his mind scrambling to process what just happened. He wasn't sure what was louder—the silence of the power outage or the thunderous pounding of his own heartbeat.
Shit. Could she hear that?
Snapping himself out of it, he quickly reached into his pocket, fishing for his phone with a slightly shaky hand. As soon as he turned the flashlight on, the soft glow illuminated the room, casting shadows against the walls. He glanced down, only to realize that Selene hadn't moved an inch.
She was still clinging to him, her grip tight, her smaller frame pressing into his without hesitation. He blinked. Then blinked again.
Eros was tall—admirably tall, especially by human standards. As a god, standing at 6'5" was nothing extraordinary, but compared to Selene's 5'4" frame, the difference was almost comical. She barely even reached his chest, and yet here she was, curled up against him like a terrified kitten.
A smirk threatened to tug at his lips, but he held it back. With the flashlight now on, there was no real reason for her to stay latched onto him. And yet she still wasn't letting go.
Eros exhaled through his nose, biting down a laugh. Oh, this was going to be fun.
"Selene."
A light tap on her shoulder.
Selene barely cracked her eyes open, squinting through the darkness. When she saw the glow of Eros' flashlight, her brain took a full second to process that—she was still huddled up against him like a scared child.
Panic shot through her spine.
She launched herself backward so fast that she nearly tripped over her own feet, clearing her throat with a forced, totally unnatural laugh. Whipping around, she put as much distance between them as the room allowed, all while frantically smoothing her hair—because yes, clearly that was the most important thing right now.
"T-The lights!" she blurted, her voice cracking just slightly. "They, uh—just suddenly went out! Haha—why, um—why did they go out?"
Her back remained stubbornly turned toward Eros as her face burned in sheer mortification. God, I love humiliating myself in front of him, huh? she thought, squeezing her eyes shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
Behind her, Eros let out a laugh. A genuine, entertained, kind of laugh.
Who knew composed, no-nonsense Selene could be this clumsy?
"Let's go check the generator," he said, still grinning as he stepped toward the door. Selene exhaled, relieved that he was moving on—until she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.
He tugged.
Her brain lagged.
Her gaze snapped to their hands first, then to his back as he nonchalantly pulled her along. Her mouth floundered, words tumbling out in protest. "Wait—what? With me? You're taking me too? Oh hell nah." Eros glanced back, unbothered, before reaching for the doorknob. "You want me to leave you here?" he mused. "Alone? In the dark?"
Selene's mouth clamped shut.
Silence.
The smirk on Eros' face said it all.
"Yeah," he said, amusement lacing his voice, "that's what I thought."
Resigned to her fate, Selene rushed to his side the moment they stepped into the corridor, clinging to proximity like a lifeline. The darkness out here was worse—thicker, heavier, swallowing up the space around them like something alive. Every small sound—the hum of distant pipes, the creak of wood, the whisper of air through the vents—made her flinch, her shoulders tensing closer to Eros.
And then—
Something collided into her.
Selene shrieked.
Loud.
Unholy.
The type of scream that belonged in a found footage horror film.
Eros whipped the flashlight toward her, eyes wide, only for the beam to land on—
A statue.
A fucking statue.
A beautifully carved decorative piece standing eerily near the basement entrance, its unmoving stone figure looking just human enough in the dark to send Selene's heart into cardiac arrest.
Selene, still clutching her chest, huffed out a breath. "Why the fuck do we have so many decorations?"
Eros, meanwhile, was doubled over, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He grabbed her wrist again—ignoring her very unamused glare—and tugged her forward.
"C'mon, let's fix the generator before you give yourself an actual heart attack."
As soon as they stepped inside, Eros made a beeline for the generator, flipping the switch with practiced ease. A low hum vibrated through the room as the machine sputtered back to life, but the lights remained off.
"The power automatically shuts down at 1 AM," he explained, settling down on the floor near the generator. "When you turn it back on manually, it takes a while to reboot." He patted the space beside him and turned the flashlight toward Selene.
She hesitated for a second before making her way over, careful in the dim light. As she sat down, silence stretched between them—deep and still, like the quiet that follows a long day.
Then, Selene broke it.
"Do you actually enjoy your job?"
Eros blinked, slightly taken aback. He let the question sit in the air, mulling over it longer than expected. "I guess?" he said, uncertain. "I never really thought about it. I just grew accustomed to it. So I suppose I do?"
Selene hummed, resting her chin on her knees. "What about you?" Eros asked, his tone shifting into something more curious. "I'm pretty sure you do. You guys are like superheroes. But… why'd you choose to be a doctor here, in Heartwood?"
Selene turned her head toward him, surprised by the question.
"I've always loved how people see us as superheroes," she admitted with a faint chuckle. "And, like you, being a doctor is all I've ever known I should be."
But then, her voice softened. "Being one here, though, it's more like a curse."
Eros watched as she started playing with her fingers, eyes distant, lost in thought.
"The title I hold makes it worse. Sometimes, the therapy sessions get to me personally." She exhaled sharply, as if shaking off the thoughts. "And when they do, I can't do anything but suck it up."
Eros remained quiet, studying the way her fingers twitched slightly, how she seemed caught in a war inside her head.
Then, his voice dropped. "Was that why?"
Selene lifted her gaze to him.
"The reason you were crying near the fountain," he clarified.
A small, knowing smile crossed her lips, followed by a quiet chuckle. "You catch on pretty quick."
Just then, the generator let out a whir, and the room flickered back to life. The low hum of electricity filled the space, and the once-ominous darkness disappeared as lights blinked on.
Selene exhaled, pushing herself to her feet and dusting off her clothes.
"Well," she said, stretching her arms, "the night just started, and we've got paperwork to suffer through."
Eros let out a small huff of laughter as he stood up beside her. "Right," he muttered, shaking his head as they headed back.