The room was buzzing—music thumping, people laughing, the whole place lit in that warm, chaotic glow that only a good party can pull off. You were already regretting agreeing to play 7 Minutes in Heaven, but your friends insisted, chanting your name until you sat down in the circle.

Of course, Kris had to be there too—leaning against the wall like he owned the place, jaw tense the moment you walked in. Your lifelong rival, the one person you could always count on to ruin your mood just by breathing in the same room.

When the bottle was passed to you, you hesitated, fingers skimming over the cool glass. You took a breath and spun it anyway. The bottle twirled across the floor, sunlight through the window catching the edges, everyone leaning in…

And it stopped. Pointed directly at Kris.

The room erupted. Your friends howled, Kris blinked like he genuinely couldn’t believe the universe hated him this much, and before either of you could get a word out, you were being hauled to your feet.

"No backing out!" someone shouted, right before they shoved you both into the nearest closet.

The door clicked shut. Locked.

It was dark, cramped, and way too quiet. Kris stood with his back against the door, eyes still adjusting, expression tightened somewhere between irritated and flustered. He let out a breath through his nose, trying to play it cool, but even in the dimness you could see the way his shoulders were a little too stiff.

He wasn’t saying anything. Just staring. Waiting. Maybe daring you to break the silence first.

Seven minutes suddenly felt much, much longer.

~What will you do?~