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"Why do you love sad stories do much?"
Isak blinks. He's back in the flat again, in a bedroom this time. The window is open, a gentle breeze making the light curtains float up into the air. There's the soft singing of birds outside, but to the two inhabitants of the flat, there's nothing outside of the world they've made in their bed.
The two boys are lying together, curled up around each other. Isak quietly observes them, not moving from his spot by the door.
"I don't love sad stories," Even chuckles softly, trailing a hand through dream Isak's hair. Isak wonders, not for the first time, what it would feel like for someone to do that to non-dream him. "I love love stories. It just so happens that a lot of epic love stories are filled with loss."
"But they're so depressing," dream Isak sighs. "You love the 'epic' love stories, but those are always just the saddest ones."
The words hang in the air, lingering in the quiet. For a few moments, they just lay there, Even holding dream Isak.
"No," Even finally speaks, after having pondered the idea. "No, those aren't the saddest love stories."
"They're not?" dream Isak scoffs. "How? They literally end in death."
"But they still lived and loved," Even shakes his head. "No, the saddest love stories are the ones that never have the chance to be written."
"How does that work?"
"Take your parallel universes," Even tilts his head back to look dream Isak in the eye. "If everything that can happen, does happen, then there's at least one universe where we don't meet."
"I don't like that one," dream Isak burrows closer to Even.
"Exactly. That's the saddest love story, though. Where we miss the opportunity of even having a chance." Even says. "Like, maybe you live in America, or I never leave Elvebakken."
"Or you never leave the hospital." Isak whispers. He turns away from Even and dream Isak then. He doesn't like that universe either. But it's the one he's living.