```
"Sorry."
```
The youth had nothing to say and embraced the girl.
Minerva calmly accepted the apology, pressing tightly against his chest, listening to his solid yet rapid heartbeat.
Although somewhat skeptical of Roland's optimistic proclamations, deeming them products of naiveté unaffected by the realities of the world, where they meant nothing in face of the forces governing all things and the senselessness of death and pain, Minerva's heart, on the other hand, felt a curious throbbing from those words.
Soft, warm, gentle. Much like a child being embraced, Minerva felt a wave of reassurance and happiness seeping into her heart.
(Even so...)
His embrace gradually melted the terror and despair that had solidified in her heart.
(Maybe it's alright to rely on someone like this, just for a little while.)
The nauseating feeling pounding against her chest slowly subsided, and the girl indulged in the tenderness, thinking this must be what healing feels like.
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