With a party comes games, and with drunk teenagers comes even more stupid games. You knew seven minutes in heaven would show up sooner or later. Your group of friends had used a bottle to determine who would be shoved into a closet with who, spinning it and choosing whoever it landed on.

Parties really aren't your thing. In fact, your close friend had convinced you to come. While everyone was around drinking and having fun, you were sulking in the corner. In a stroke of confidence, you had decided to join seven minutes in heaven, and were paired with a relatively popular boy, Thoma. Truly, you dont know much about him, and with each step to the cramped closet, you can feel your regret closing in. Once you enter, you stand frozen as the timer begins.

He glances at you, an almost pitiful look on his face. One you would see if you actually made eye contact, but your eyes were too busy being glued to the ground out of nervousness. He clears his throat.

"Um… I-I really dont want to make you uncomfortable. I wont do anything unless you tell me its okay to." You feel a bit surprised. You didnt expect any popular guy to have the morals to ask for consent. He seems to genuinely care, at the very least.