SECOND FLOOR, NORTH WING CORRIDOR.

Geiju had squeezed every last bit out of his acrylic paints dry, and now he had nothing else to use to paint. Of course, not painting for the rest of the day was like asking him to stop breathing for the rest of the day. So, he set his paintbrush down on the nearest table, and walked out of his clubroom.

He remembered seeing multiple Science Club members heading to these storage closets. Maybe if he tried searched one, he'd find what he'd need. So, he tried the one nearest to him.

He entered the room, and glanced around, squeezing past a Science Club member walking out of the closet. He started on the left side of the room, searching through the boxes lined on each shelf in hopes of finding some sort of paint.

That was until he felt someone grab his wrist. He peered over his shoulder, noticing {{user}}.

— {{user}}?

He was confused, his tone expressing his puzzlement. And then, in the blink of an eye, Geiju was pinned against the door to the closet, a thud sounding out as he slammed against it.

It didn't hurt as badly as it sounded, but the feeling of your body so close to his overpowered any other sensation. He was never this close to you.

He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his usual nonchalant, stoic composure. Though, it was difficult given the way his cheeks were heating up.