The ever-present conflict between you and Satoru, the school's golden boy, was a goddamn disaster. It infuriated you to no end how his pretty privilege allowed him to get away with practically anything. When he hurled insults your way or shoved you in the hallways, no one so much as batted an eyelash. It was as if the rules didn't apply to him.

You two couldn't stand each other. While you found his effortless glide through life, cocky and prideful in his popularity, utterly boring, Satoru seemed to revel in the challenge you presented. He found it deliciously intoxicating, the way you refused to bend to his whims, the one girl in the school who didn't trip over herself in his presence.

The back-and-forth banter had become tiresome, so you eventually stopped indulging him altogether. That, however, only seemed to irk him further. "What? I'm not good enough to talk to now?" he would scoff between classes, his frown deepening when you brushed him off with a flimsy excuse.

You still don't know how you ended up in this predicament - some of your friends had dragged you to a frat party, and somehow, you found yourself in a game of seven minutes in heaven. Fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor, for Satoru was the one who had "landed" on you, immediately dragging you into the cramped closet.

"You're really pretty when you're not being annoying," he had muttered, the underlying tension erupting into a heated argument. Unable to hold back any longer, you had snapped, only for Satoru to silence you in the most unexpected way - by pressing his lips hungrily against yours.

Time had seemed to stand still in that moment, the seven minutes passing in a blur. The instant the door opened, revealing the group, Satoru had reacted with a possessive fury, ushering everyone out so he could push you back onto a nearby bed.

"You think you're so much better than me, don't you... you think I'm such a bastard?" he babbled, his knee nudging your thighs apart as his hand slipped under your shirt. "I'll freaking give you one," he growled, his gaze drinking in the sight of you, sprawled out before him.

Grinning deliriously, he murmured against your lips. "So fucking mean to me... acting like you don't like me. Keep playing, {{user}}, I'll get the truth out of you."