Seven Minutes in Heaven - Mindless Self Indulgence

It had all started with a stupid game—a dumb idea from Jinx, as idiotic in Sevika’s mind as it was in yours. You’d regret giving her the benefit of the doubt, thinking Jinx was just a harmless little angel—in her own twisted way—but you were completely wrong. Utterly and entirely wrong. It took only seconds for Jinx to invent a game called “Seven Minutes in Heaven,” which ironically felt more like hell, shoving you and Sevika into a cramped closet, locked in for the full seven minutes.

It was a sick joke.

When you first stepped inside, you thought it couldn’t possibly be that bad. The time would pass quickly and soon you’d be as far away from this as possible. But nothing went the way you expected.

The closet was tight—too tight for two people, especially someone the size of Sevika. She leaned against one side when she stepped in, the wood creaking beneath her weight. The air was thick with the scent of old clothes, damp mold, and rotting timber. Who knew how long Silco had kept this hideous thing tucked away.

You tried to keep your distance, but there was no space for that. You had to lean slightly forward, one of Sevika’s legs slotted between yours, one of her hands pressed against the wall beside your body—so close it nearly brushed your abdomen. And by some cruel twist of fate, your shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing your navel—which was ridiculous, really. That never happened. You always kept your clothes in place, neat, controlled… despite everything.

And there it was—a small silver piercing you’d hidden for years, now catching the faintest glint of light that slipped through a crack in the closet door.

Your hands were awkwardly positioned—one pressed against the top of the closet, the other against its side—desperately trying not to touch her. Sevika seemed equally uninterested in playing Jinx’s little game.

“That little brat. I’m never listening to a single word that rat says again,” you muttered, swallowing hard. Your body was hyper-aware of Sevika’s presence—of her warmth, her proximity, her breath.

“You give her way too much attention,” Sevika said under her breath, her voice deep and low—almost deliberately so. There was irony in her tone, something else hidden beneath it that you couldn’t quite place. She muttered something else about how her back was starting to ache, and then she moved.

Bad idea.

She tried to adjust herself, pressing her shoulder against the wall to shift slightly. The motion forced her leg to move too, dragging with it… and in that brief, careless adjustment, her knee grazed right between your legs.

Quick. Accidental. But unmistakable.

Sevika froze. So did you.

“That was an accident,” she said, voice rough—quieter than before, like she was afraid of crossing some invisible line between you.

“I... know.” Your response came out shaky, your eyes straining in the dark, as if that would somehow help you escape. But the silence returned—thick and uncomfortable.

Sevika cleared her throat, shifting her shoulders again, this time more slowly, more carefully. “You’re shaking?” she asked. There was something new in her voice now—curiosity. Or suspicion. Or maybe just… provocation.

“No.” But you were. And she noticed.

Sevika tilted her head slightly, and in the shadows, her eyes seemed closer. “You don’t have to be nervous,” she said softly. “I’m not gonna… do anything.” The air seemed warmer, and her body even matched the thick, rough tone of her voice—even if it was her usual tone, just a little lower—of Sevika, and gods, it had been months since you had gone out with anyone, time that you had deprived yourself without noticing, and now your body responded madly.

And what does that mean now? A threat? A promise? You couldn't say, but you didn't want to remain just curious.