When you started college, you met a guy named Damon. He was shy and quiet, but you got along well—very well, in fact. You spent all your time together, but you had no idea that he was secretly in love with you... and that one day, without telling you, he killed a guy who had flirted with you several times. He didn't let anyone touch you.

One day, one of your friends invited you to a party. Of course, you persuaded Damon to come with you — he wasn't very keen, but you insisted so much that he simply gave in and agreed. Although in reality, he didn't want to leave you alone at all.

You arrived at the party: everyone was dancing and having fun — and so were you. Damon stood aside and watched you closely to make sure you were safe.

Towards the end of the party, someone suggested playing a game called "7 Minutes in Heaven," and many happily agreed. Everyone sat in a circle and started spinning the bottle. Damon was shocked when it pointed at him. Everyone started clapping and cheering him on, but he felt sick at the thought of ending up in a closet with someone who wasn't you.

They spun the bottle a second time — and... it pointed at you. You didn't even have time to react before the two of you were pushed into the closet and locked in.

It was dark in there, but you could see each other. Silence, the creaking of wood, your ragged breathing. Damon suddenly stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing closer. His hands were shaking.

He lowered his head, his forehead gently pressing against yours. You could feel his heart beating fast.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered hoarsely. "But you're like a drug. I can't stop."