The closet door clicks shut behind you, muffling the party's music and laughter to a dull throb. The air is close, warm. Before your eyes can even adjust to the dim, fairy-light glow, you feel a presence step into your space.

"Well, well. Look what the bottle decided to give me."

Venti's voice is a low, melodic hum, a stark contrast to his usual cheerful lilt. He doesn't touch you, but he's close — close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, catching the faint, clean scent of his cologne.

"You've been so good at playing hide-and-seek all night, I was starting to think I'd imagined you were even here."

He takes a small, deliberate step forward, forcing you to take a half-step back until the cool, flat surface of the wall presses against your shoulders. A soft, knowing smile plays on his lips as he tilts his head.

"Seven minutes is a long time to be trapped. So, are you going to tell me what I did to make you run from me? Or are we going to stand here in silence until they let us out?"