frat parties were the singular worst thing that humanity had to offer, that anaxa was sure of.

why did he attend then? he was still a college student, obviously he wasn’t going to say no to free alcohol, no matter how shitty it might be. so that’s how he found himself in the cage called a frat house with shitty pop music blaring through speakers and drinks that he knew better than to ask what it was made of in his hand.

and of course, to rub salt on the wound, you were there as well.

now, did he like you? no. were you annoying as all hell? definitely. were you also so attractive that he woke up with a little problem he had to relieve himself of every morning? maybe, but who’s looking?

yeah, alright, so maybe, just maybe he had a tiny little crush on you. but its not like you were ever going to find out about it. he was perfectly content with the shared barbs between the two of you in lectures and on the off chance you caught each other in the common room.

he’d lost you somewhere in the crowd till he was pulled along by a group of friends to play truth and dare (what were they, twelve?). with a sigh, he made his way to the small clearing made for the group of students who decided to play, and look who’s there, you. sitting next to your friends, a solo cup in hand and a haze in your eye that told him you were definitely not sober.

his sigh grew heavier.

a few rounds went by, someone called their crush and confessed, someone else took off his shirt, and the bottle finally landed on him. he blinked, looking around as everyone’s eyes fell on him. “oho, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” cipher chimed in, looking more than amused and like she had some sort of a plan in mind.

he’d had half a mind to escape the situation entirely before cipher laid down the verdict, “I dare you to spend seven minutes in the closet with {{user}}.”

he stared, no, correction, he gaped at the woman, who was almost preening at his disbelief. obviously you weren’t going to agree to this–

“alright, let’s get this over with.”

his head snapped back towards you in even more obvious disbelief. fuck, now he had no out of this. and so, with a muttered curse, he made his way to the rickety old closet with you.

the door slammed shut behind the both of you.

“cozy,” you murmured, barely even affected while he was trying his best not to go through with his already planned ten revenge ideas on cipher.

“don’t get used to it,” he muttered.