my ribs are a glass closet (you can see my heart)

If you, too, have ever found yourself trapped in a too-small space with someone far too tall, far too charming, and far too good at leaning in close, then you already know that disasters seldom require villains.

Over the course of several breathless, ill-advised minutes — seven, to be exact — Tommy will discover many things: that oxygen is not infinite, Wilbur’s smirks decidedly are, and pushing two idiots into one poorly ventilated closet, results in a kiss that, against all common sense, was absolutely worth it.

Or: The literal cliché of pushing your favorite blorbos into a room and making them kiss, because if the world won’t give me something predictable, then I will.