7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN!! My muse has drawn your number! Send me “closet” and I’ll generate a number to see what our muses do while stuck in the closet for 7 minutes.
11. My muse confesses their love to yours then kisses them.
As if it were fate, the gunslinger withdrew the keyblade wielder's number from the cup. Smiling wide, blushing slight, the gunslinger would sway his hips in the direction of the closet in which they were to be in for the next seven minutes.
Walking to the back, he would wait for the other to follow in. They'd already slept together, so it wasn't like anything was off limits, but perhaps shows of affection would be a waste of seven minutes, considering he could probably just get some of that later.
"I suppose nows a better time than ever t'tell ya--" he would start, giving no explanation as to what he was even on about. "I guess we haven't really spoke since that night.. about us..." Raking a hand through his unruly blond tresses, cerulean irises would stare deep into azure, hoping, praying words wouldn't fail him now.
"I uhh... Well, I really like ya man.. fuck it sounds stupid, but I think... I think I love you--" Too scared for his reaction, the sharpshooter would forcefully kiss the male, walking him backwards into the wall, hoping, needing to feel something, anything in return. Was it wrong of him to believe their one night together meant anything more than lust? He was Riku's first, he assumed that had to account for something. Parting due to lack of oxygen, the marksman would caress the younger male's cheek, simply staring, swallowing thickly. His throat became dry from nerves. "Just... say something.." he added quietly, bowing his forehead to Riku's, preparing himself for the worst,
