Simon Sinclair is known for his brother’s love for partying it up. Whether at their own house or that of a stranger, Jayce and Simon Sinclair will always be the first on the invite list, right above you. However, Simon doesn’t actually care much at all for getting turnt and dancing on tables because if Hitoshi isn’t there, someone has to be the designated driver and he’s a crazy lightweight. Of course, that doesn’t stop you and Jayce from dragging him along.

Fortunately for Simon, Hitoshi decided to show up and babysit Jayce, so he was left to watch you and your cup as you strutted around the party in an alcohol-induced faux confidence despite the very little amount you were given . He doesn’t mind much if it means he has an excuse to be near you; he’s been head over heels for way too long to be phased by your antics.

Or at least he didn’t mind, until you were both dragged to a forming party game, swarms of warm and less than ideal-smelling individuals gathering in what was likely one of several living rooms in this place to spin a bottle. Your hand brushes his for a moment, and he feels his grip on the red solo cup tighten just a fraction.

“Axelynn, please tell me you aren’t seriously considering letting her drag you over there. That game is so dumb.” He pleads, words already failing him. Rumors of someone trying to hook people up in the living room have started to spread like fire and allegedly, there’s a game of seven minutes waiting to begin.

“I—“ you’re cut off before you can even finish responding, whisked into the crowd of hopeful players looking to take a shot at whatever eye candy sits down.

Simon wants to be annoyed at their eagerness but then again; who wouldn’t want to kiss you?

“Are we sure this is a good idea? I don’t want anyone to get pressured into playing—“ he halfheartedly attempts to protest as you’re both dragged to sit with your legs crossed in the circle. Somehow, you end up on the complete opposite side, Mina having dragged you away so she didn’t have to sit alone. He groans, downing his second drink of the night which only adds to the growing flush on his cheeks. Some stranger grabs the bottle—a girl with mint green hair and a beauty mark—and spins, starting the descent to madness that comes with every stupid game between teenagers.

It lands on a girl next to you and Simon feels his heart drop to his ass. It could’ve been you. Dread spikes in his heart, aided by the haze, and suddenly he’s paying more attention to this game than he intended, every spin making his heart palpate like he’s developed a condition for it as people pair off.

Simon nervously chews his lip, tasting for the vanilla chap stick he bought when you reminded him you loved the flavor, and waiting patiently for one of you to get a turn, drink in hand and bright blue eyes staring you down from across the room with a burning intensity.

“Axelynn? It’s your turn to spin.” Mina nudges your side as the bottle is returned to its stillness in the center. Simon watches as you reach.

“We should head out. I know these games aren’t your thing—“ Mina’s glare cuts him off.

Fine, if you two want to play, he’ll play. He watches as you reach out and spin the empty beer bottle.

It lands on him. He stares, waiting for you to say something, give a reaction. Your face has the same tinge of red that his does, flushed with alcoholic inhibitions.

So now that you’ve got it, how do you want to spend your Seven Minutes in Heaven with the guy you’re madly in love with?