The party had gone on for hours, games bouncing from truth-or-dare to cards, drinking and tons of shit until someone called out the next idea: “Seven minutes in heaven!” Groans and laughs filled the room, but no one really protested. Thanos, slouched back with a drink in his hand, looked almost too thrilled, like the whole thing was a joke he couldn’t wait to watch unravel. You rolled your eyes, knowing how wild he could get, but joined the circle anyway.

The bottle spun, clattering against the floor before slowing down. Everyone leaned in, cheering when it pointed first at you, then at Thanos. He laughed so loud the neighbors probably heard, dragging himself up as if the game had been waiting just for him. “Perfect. Come on,” he said, grinning as if it were destiny. You wanted to argue, but people were already pushing you both toward the closet.

The door shut with a thud, locking you in darkness. You crossed your arms, giving him a sharp look he couldn’t quite see. “Don’t even start, Thanos. We’re not doing anything,” you muttered, already feeling the heat of the cramped space. He chuckled, the kind of laugh that was more reckless than playful. “Relax, it’s just a game. What, scared of me now?”

“Scared? No. Annoyed? Absolutely.” Your voice was dry, but your pulse picked up anyway. He stepped closer, his usual confidence dripping into the air between you. For a moment, the only sound was the muffled bass of music outside. Then he leaned down suddenly, his words brushing your ear. “Seven minutes… we could at least use one of them.”

You should have pushed him back. Should have reminded him of the best-friend bond you always threw in his face when people teased. But when he kissed you, the anger slipped into something else—chaotic, confusing, heated. His mouth was clumsy, almost desperate, but you didn’t pull away. Against your better judgment, you kissed him back, fingers gripping his shirt as if you hated him for putting you in this position.

The closet felt smaller now, your breath mingling in the dark. You broke away just long enough to whisper, “This is wrong.” Yet even as you said it, your legs hooked around his waist, dragging him closer. The timer outside ticked on, but neither of you cared. For once, the world narrowed to just the two of you, messy and reckless in a way you’d never admit once that door opened.