The door shut behind them with a final click, and the lock turned from the outside. The laughter and music from Hughie’s Halloween birthday party buzzed faintly through the walls, but it was the chant just outside the door that pulsed loudest.

“SEVEN MINUTES! SEVEN MINUTES!” “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

Gibsie flopped onto the edge of the bed with a dramatic groan, red horns tilting slightly askew on his head, the tail of his devil costume dragging across the hardwood floor. “I swear to God, these lot are feral.”

She stood by the dresser, halo bobbing a little as she crossed her arms, biting back a nervous smile. Her wings shimmered with glitter, and her legs were trembling, just slightly, in her white heels. “We should’ve said we were allergic to closets.”

“This isn’t a closet,” Gibsie muttered. “It’s Hughie’s mam’s guest room. That’s somehow worse.”

Silence fell between them for a few beats, thick and humming. Five minutes in, and the chanting had turned to obnoxious knocks.

“Gibsie! Gibsie! Score for the team!”

She laughed under her breath, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “They’re not gonna let us out, are they?”

“Nope,” Gibsie said, hands clasped behind his head as he leaned back on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles. “Not ‘til we snog.”

She shifted her weight, looking at him. “Well… we could just do it.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and he sat forward slowly. “What?”

She shrugged, trying to look casual, but her cheeks were burning. “It’s not like we haven’t thought about it.”

“You’ve thought about it?” he asked, his voice suddenly too serious for the devil costume.

Her silence was answer enough.

He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets, suddenly looking everywhere but at her. “No.”

She blinked. “No?”

“No,” he said again, stepping back as if the bed had caught fire. “Not like this.”

“Why not?” she asked, a little too fast, a little too hopeful. “Gibsie, it’s just—”

“No. Not like this.” His voice cracked slightly, but he held her gaze now. “Not with them shouting. Not because of some game. Not in some locked room like this is a dare.”

She didn’t know what to say. Her hands fell to her sides.

He looked down, exhaling hard. “If I kiss you, it’s not gonna be a joke. I’m not laughing. Are you?”

She shook her head.

They both just stood there, quiet now, the chanting outside still loud—but it didn’t matter anymore.

Because what passed between them in that moment wasn’t a game. It was real.

And it meant more than any kiss behind a locked door ever could.