The closet door shut behind you with a sharp click, completely muffling the noise of the party outside. The light inside was dim—almost nonexistent—casting everything in soft, intimate shadows for something that was supposed to be nothing more than a stupid game.

Seven minutes.

Your heart started racing the second you realized how close Marie was. Too close. Close enough to feel her body heat, the familiar scent that always left you a little disoriented.

“This is ridiculous,” Marie muttered, crossing her arms, clearly nervous. “Who even came up with this shit?”

“Probably someone who enjoys watching people freak out,” you replied, trying to sound casual… and failing miserably.

Silence settled in after that. Heavy silence. The kind that stretched every second longer than it should.

You leaned back against the wall, suddenly very aware of how small the space was, how impossible it was to ignore the obvious. Marie cleared her throat, fidgeting with the ring on her finger—a habit you knew all too well. She only did that when she was nervous. Especially when she was with you.

“So…” she started, then stopped. “We don’t have to do anything, right?”

“No,” you answered a little too quickly. “I mean… we don’t have to.”

Marie let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Right. Just… stand here. Seven minutes. Easy.”

She didn’t look easy at all.

Your eyes met for a moment longer than necessary. The kind of look that said everything and nothing at the same time. You noticed how her face looked softer in the low light, how her dark eyes kept searching for yours before darting away, like holding eye contact for too long might be dangerous.

“Are you okay?” she asked, breaking the silence.