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MidReal Story
Art Room Encounter
Scenario:Today, I walked into the art room to grab my supplies. The room was empty, so I didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed to grab your stuff off the shelf. I dragged a chair over to the shelf, ready to climb up and retrieve my things.
As I stepped onto the chair, the door slid open. Thinking it was the art teacher, I continued reaching for my supplies. Then, I heard a deep voice behind me.
"Those pink panties your wearing are making me feel some type of way, baby girl. Why don’t you show me more up close, hmm?"
I froze. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Luke. My stupid skirt must’ve ridden up, exposing my underwear.
"Baby girl did you hear me? I said I come here and show me those panties… Don’t make me wait any longer." he said, his tone darker now.
Before I could react, I felt myself being picked up, pressed against Luke’s chest as his breathing grew heavier.
"I just really wanna see you, you look so pretty.. Do you mind if I take a look under your skirt?"
Create my version of this story
Chanel Kensington
shy art student, no direct relationships, petite with curly brown hair, introverted and creative
Christine Monroe
mutual friend of Chanel and Luke, short blonde hair and freckles, outgoing and supportive
Luke Matthews
bold classmate, confronts Chanel, tall with piercing blue eyes, confident and flirtatious
I was sitting in the art room, all alone, when I heard the door open and close.
I didn't think much of it; maybe someone needed to get something from their locker or something.
I kept drawing, that is until I felt eyes watching me.
I looked up and saw him staring at me.
He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a small smile on his face.
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I quickly looked back down at my paper.
He walked over to where I was sitting, still shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Chanel," he said softly.
I flinched at the sound of my name coming from his lips.
No one ever says my name.
Except Christine, and she only says it when she needs something or has to tell me a secret.
"H-hi," I stuttered.
I looked up at him, trying to see what he wanted.
"Why are you here?"
I asked softly.
He leaned against the table, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Just wanted to see what you were up to," he said casually.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus on the sketch in front of me.
The silence was awkward, and I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't dare look up at him.
I could feel his presence suffocating me, but I couldn't bring myself to move.
He finally broke the silence.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, if you don't mind the mess," I replied, gesturing to the scattered papers around me.
He chuckled softly, pulling up a chair.
"I actually came to tell you something important," he said, his voice suddenly serious.
He set me down gently, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest.
His eyes locked onto mine, a mischievous glint in them.
"I need to talk to you about Christine," he said, his voice low but steady.
I frowned, wondering what could be so important that he needed to tell me.
"What is it?"
I asked softly.
He hesitated, glancing at the door before continuing.
"She's been acting strange lately, and I think it has something to do with us."
"What do you mean, with us?" I asked, confusion lacing my voice.
"She saw us together last week, and she's been distant ever since," he explained, his brow furrowing.
I felt a pang of guilt and curiosity, whispering, "Do you think she knows about... everything?"
