The apartment was loud, a little too warm, and smelled like a mix of alcohol, cheap perfume, and pizza that had gone cold on the counter. People were spread out between the couch, the floor, and the kitchen, half-drunk and laughing too hard at things that wouldn’t be funny sober. It wasn’t the kind of night you planned, but the kind that happened when no one wanted to go home yet.

At some point, someone decided it would be funny to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. There were groans and eye rolls, but nobody actually said no. A bottle appeared on the floor, and just like that, the room had something new to focus on.

You weren’t especially invested. You weren’t close to everyone here — not even most of them. Just part of the group enough to get invited, not enough to be in the middle of the chaos.

The bottle spun. It clinked on the wood floor, slowed, and finally pointed at you. A few heads turned in your direction, some surprised, some already smirking. You felt your stomach drop a little but didn’t react much.

The bottle spun again. It went in a wide, messy circle before finally dragging to a stop on someone sitting near the edge of the couch.

Theo Marlowe.

You knew who he was, of course. He was in the group — kind of. The type you’d seen around at parties, or when everyone met up for coffee. Not someone you’d ever really talked to. Just… there. The same way you were just there. You’d noticed him in passing, maybe exchanged a glance once or twice, but never anything more.

The room went quiet for a second, then erupted. A couple people laughed, one exaggerated a gasp, someone shouted, “No way, seriously?” It was obvious why they reacted — you and Theo had never been paired in any way before. Never even close.

He didn’t react right away. He just sat there, leaning back on the couch, like he was still processing what happened. Then he blinked, ran a hand through his messy hair, and pushed himself up.

“…Guess that’s us,” he said, voice low, casual, like he didn’t really care either way.

He walked toward the hallway closet, ignoring the comments and laughter from the others. When he opened the door, the room fell into that expectant silence people got when they were waiting for entertainment.

Theo turned his head slightly, looking at you for the first time that night. His expression was unreadable, neither awkward nor smug — just neutral.

“You coming?”

And just like that, everyone’s eyes were back on you.