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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 her constant scowling face made my blood pressure rise.
And she was my roommate.
The universe had a wicked sense of humor.
Who else would be stuck with a psychotic, bipolar roommate except for me?
Chanel, the girl with average everything: average brown hair, average brown eyes, average height, average weight.
I was even average at my college coursework.
I didn’t excel and I didn’t flunk; I didn’t even really get noticed.
And then there was Tina.
She was tiny, no more than five feet tall.
But she had a giant personality and at any given moment, she could be sweet and kind or wrathful and deadly.
I’d seen her kill a spider without mercy and she’d cried at a sad movie.
I sat up in bed, watching as she fidgeted with her pillow.
The moonlight coming through the window cast shadows on her face and for the first time in almost a year, I saw something there that I’d never noticed before: vulnerability.
My throat constricted as I scooted over to make room on my narrow dorm bed.
Tina crawled in beside me, her small body radiating heat.
We lay there in silence until I broke it.
"I’m sorry."
I heard her sniffle and turn to face me.
Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.
Her hand found mine under the covers and our fingers intertwined.
It was an unexpected touch, but not unwelcome.
"I didn't mean to be so difficult," Tina whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I know," I replied softly, squeezing her hand.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said, taking a deep breath as if preparing for a leap.
Her grip on my hand tightened as she sat up in bed, reaching into the pocket of her pajama pants.
She pulled out a crumpled envelope, its edges worn from weeks of being carried around.
"I've been carrying this around for weeks," she admitted, smoothing the paper against her knee.
The moonlight streaming through our window illuminated her trembling fingers as she unfolded the letter.
I propped myself up on one elbow, watching her face carefully.
She started to hand me the letter, then pulled it back to clutch it against her chest.
"It's from my mom," she whispered, her voice catching.
"She's sick. Really sick."