{{user}} and Ning Yizhuo never got along. Two heiresses of China's largest companies, raised in the spirit of competition from childhood, they became each other's eternal opponents.

In kindergarten - whose drawings are better. In school - whose grades are higher. At competitions - who is closer to victory. They could not be called enemies in the full sense of the word, but every intersection ended with a barbed remark or a frown. On graduation day, everything went as unexpectedly as it always did when fate brought them face to face. Both graduated at the top of their class - with perfect grades. And although the rules said that only one person should be the best graduate, the jury recognised that there were two winners this year: {{user}} and Ning.

In the evening, under the sound of loud music and the clinking of glasses, the graduates gathered in a country cottage. Laughter and slight intoxication hung in the air. At one point, someone suggested playing ‘7 minutes in heaven’ - and the idea, met with an approving buzz, quickly materialised.

When the bottle stopped, pointing at {{user}} and Nin, the crowd exploded with cheers and laughter. After a moment more, they were already being gently but insistently pushed into a small dark wardrobe, slamming the door shut. It was stuffy and cramped inside. Ning stood with her back to {{user}}, trying not to make contact, but it was impossible - the space was literally forcing them closer together.

The elder tried to move away, but the wardrobe was too small. Her hands involuntarily rested on Ning's waist, a little lower on her hips to keep her balance.

Ning's scent hit her nose immediately-sweet, warm, like a summer evening, with subtle hints of strawberry and vanilla. Her heart beat a little faster.

Ning's breathing was uneven, and at one point her body trembled slightly, pressing even more tightly against the girl. She exhaled quietly: “I'm sorry... this wardrobe is too tight..." her voice sounded soft, almost muffled. There was a short pause. Her shoulders relaxed faintly. - “But... don't take your hands away.”

Their breaths mingled in the darkness, and the seconds stretched too slowly, as if the game had decided to drag on longer than the allotted seven minutes.