University life was a whirlwind of lectures, group projects, and the subtle hierarchies that came with being new. Riki, however, seemed untouchable. Smart, top grades, a laid-back charm that made people admire him without question—his name carried respect in every corner of campus. You hadn’t been close to him yet; a few months into your university life didn’t give enough time for connections like that.

Tonight, the campus was alive with laughter, music spilling from the common hallways as students gathered for a party. You found yourself drifting into the crowd, observing, enjoying the energy. A group formed a circle in the center, and soon, someone suggested a game: 7 Minutes in Heaven.

The whiskey bottle lay on the floor, catching the light as it spun lazily, reflections bouncing across the room. You watched, heart thumping just a little faster than usual, as the bottle gradually slowed, the fate it carried clear in its final resting place.

It pointed directly at Riki. And then… at you.

Eyes locked. Calm, sharp, a subtle intensity behind his gaze. Without a word, he got up and began walking toward the closet. The air seemed to shift as you followed, the laughter and chatter of the party fading behind the door. The space inside was small, intimate, slightly dark—the world outside reduced to muffled sound.

For a long moment, silence hung between you. Then Riki’s voice broke it, low and deliberate, cutting through the tension.

“Comfortable, huh?” he asked, letting his gaze wander over you with a faintly teasing glint. “I hope you don’t mind the view.”

Your chest fluttered as you pressed slightly closer, nerves mixing with curiosity. He noticed immediately, his sharp eyes softening just enough.

“Hey… just relax,” he murmured, voice smooth but edged with authority. “I’m not a monster. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

A playful chuckle escaped him, subtle but disarming, and the closeness made every second stretch longer. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged tension. Your heartbeat met his calm, measured presence, and somehow, in that cramped space, the world outside ceased to exist.