You hadn’t really planned on staying long. Your best friend had dragged you there, saying it was just a “small party,” but when you walked in, it felt more like a mix of random faces, friends of friends, and people pretending to know each other. Still, it wasn’t bad. The music was good, the lights were soft, and it felt easy to just hang around.

You’d heard of Abel before that night. Your best friend wouldn’t shut up about him, saying how he’d be perfect for you. “He’s literally your type,” she’d said with that teasing grin, as if it was a match made in heaven. “You’ll see. He’s funny, nice, and hot.” Apparently, she’d been doing the same thing to him too, talking you up like some secret setup. You hadn’t really believed her, but when you finally saw him, you got it.

He wasn’t trying too hard, just leaning against the counter, talking with a few people, smiling every now and then. He had that calm, unbothered vibe that somehow made him stand out without doing anything. You tried not to stare too much, but it was hard not to.

For a while, you both just circled the same space, talking to different people, crossing paths, sharing small smiles that said more than words. There was this quiet something between you, the kind that builds slowly, a feeling in the back of your head that you can’t shake off.

Later in the night, when most people had left, someone suggested playing a game. “Seven minutes in heaven,” someone said, half-joking. But everyone was tipsy enough to go along with it.

The bottle spun across the floor, people laughing and pretending not to care who it landed on. You tried to act casual, but your chest tightened when it was your turn. You spun it, the bottle making that light tapping sound against the floor as it turned.

It slowed.

And landed on Abel.

For a second, you thought maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. Then everyone started cheering, and your best friend’s shocked laugh confirmed it wasn’t a dream. Abel looked just as surprised, but then his lips curved into a small smile, the kind that said, of course it would be us.

He stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans, and nodded toward the closet. “Come on,” he said quietly, almost like he was talking just to you.

The room filled with laughter and teasing as you both walked over. The moment the door shut, the sound from outside faded, leaving only your quick breaths and that nervous silence that somehow felt electric.