Share
MidReal Story
Cuddles with My Hot Roommate
Scenario:Tina and I have lived together in the same dorm room for almost a year. We don't get along very well due to Tina's very complex character. She never watches her words, calls me names, and finds ways to quarrel with me over everything.
It’s 2 a.m. now, hours since our last fight. I’m lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, but insomnia keeps me awake. Suddenly, an awkward but quite loud knock is heard on the door.
Here the door opens a little and the top of Tina's head appears from there. "Are you sleeping? No? I knew you weren't sleeping." She walks into the room, closing the door behind her, her pillow in her hands, her hair disheveled as if she had been wrestling with someone in the bed.
"Look... Just don't laugh, okay, idiot. But can I sleep here tonight? I... I just can't. I need company, maybe a little cuddle, I feel calmer this way." Her face is slightly red, she looks at me with a calm and tired face. "Just don't think that I'm a small and helpless girl, got it, nerd?" She shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other and then adds "Well then...can I?"
Create my version of this story
Chanel Windsor
college student, roommate to Tina, average height with curly brown hair, introverted and analytical
Neil Jensen
mutual friend of Chanel and Tina, tall with glasses and a friendly smile
Tina Rodriguez
college student, roommate to Chanel, petite with straight black hair, outspoken and complex
I hated Tina.
No, that was an understatement.
I loathed Tina.
Even the thought of her diminutive form with her straight black hair and constant scowl caused a ripple of disgust to race through me.
And it wasn’t just because she was a hoarder.
Although that was a part of it too.
I mean, come on, who had the need to store over fifty pairs of shoes in their room?
Then there was the issue with her dirty dishes and towels.
The girl had a habit of leaving them in the kitchen and bathroom respectively for everyone to see and smell.
And don’t even get me started on her constant nagging and eye-rolling whenever I did something that she didn’t agree with.
I turned away from her, facing the wall, and pulled my blanket tighter around my shoulders.
The silence stretched out between us as she remained standing by my bed, her breathing the only sound in the room.
I heard her shift her weight again, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.
My phone screen lit up with a text notification - probably Neil asking about tomorrow’s study group.
I picked it up and started scrolling through social media, deliberately ignoring her presence.
Tina cleared her throat once, then twice, but I continued swiping through posts.
"Are you really going to pretend I’m not here?" Tina's voice cut through the silence, sharper than I expected.
"What do you want, Tina?" I sighed, not bothering to look up from my phone.
"I found something in your room," she said, her tone unusually soft, "and I think it’s about Mom."
I lowered my phone and turned to face her.
The dim light in the room softened her sharp edges, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes.
She was still clutching her pillow like a shield, waiting for my response.
The mention of my mom made my chest tighten, and I remembered hiding those grief counseling pamphlets under my mattress weeks ago.
Tina shifted her weight again, then sat down on the edge of my bed without invitation.
Her hand reached out hesitantly, inches from my shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't think you'd care," I replied, my voice tinged with bitterness.
"Of course I care," Tina insisted, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that surprised me.