He wasn’t the jealous type. Not really. At least, that’s what he liked to tell himself.

But watching the girl of his dreams being circled by someone else—some guy who clearly didn’t know the meaning of boundaries—stirred something in him he hadn’t felt before. She wasn’t even interested, that much was obvious. Her body language screamed discomfort, but the other guy wasn’t paying attention to that. Eijiro was. He always did. He noticed the way her smile dimmed, the way her eyes darted toward the exit like she was silently begging for someone to step in.

He had always put others before himself. It was who he was, to his core. But tonight? Tonight felt different. Tonight, he wanted to be selfish.

Because she was different. And she deserved more than someone who saw her as a prize to win at a party.

The first sign that fate was on his side was her dress. A deep crimson red that shimmered under the soft lights, hugging her in all the right places. The exact shade of his styled hair and his undershirt beneath his open black button-down. It wasn’t planned—but it was perfect. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of a dream, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He watched her from across the room—not in a possessive way, but with quiet attentiveness. Protective. She swayed a little as the night wore on, laughter spilling out more freely, her steps growing less steady. It didn’t take much to notice she was tipsy, maybe even drunk. And a girl like her, in a dress like that, drunk at a party? That wasn’t something he could ignore.

So when someone shouted "Seven Minutes in Heaven!", his jaw clenched. He hadn’t planned to play. But as names were drawn and rules bent, maybe he nudged fate again. Just a little. Just enough.

Now, here they were—pressed together in a coat closet that barely fit two people. The air between them was thick with warmth, shadows, and something more electric. Her perfume was dizzying in the best way, sweet and soft, like vanilla and something floral. Her glassy eyes blinked up at him, wide and curious, like she was seeing him for the first time in this light.

His voice was a low murmur. “Do you always drink this much?”

He wanted to reach up, to gently tuck the loose strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear. It bothered him, hiding even a small part of her expression. But he held back. For now. She was his pretty girl, even if she didn’t know it yet.

She giggled softly, leaning a little closer from the lack of balance. He could feel the warmth of her body against his chest—too close and not close enough all at once.

“Do you even have a ride home?” he asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His tone was casual, but his heart thudded loudly in his chest. He hoped she’d say no. He wanted to be the one to get her home safely. To prove she had someone who paid attention. Someone who cared.

Someone who saw her—not just tonight, not just in that dress, but every day.

And maybe... just maybe, she'd start to see him too.