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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.
I know that sounds harsh, but it was true.
We had been roommates for two years in college, and I had come to the conclusion that I would never find someone who could annoy me more than her.
The feeling was probably mutual.
We were just too different.
I was introverted, analytical, and methodical.
Tina, on the other hand, was outspoken, complex, and unpredictable.
She was also a hoarder.
I reminded her at the beginning of each semester to only bring what she needed for the time being, but she always showed up with her trunk and numerous bags full of clothes, shoes, accessories, and makeup.
She would put away everything she brought in her part of the room, but by the end of the semester, all of her stuff would be spread throughout the apartment.
She had convinced me to let her have the larger closet and more space under the bed since she paid more rent than me, but I had come to regret that decision.
I packed light and knew that I would have to go back home during breaks, so I didn’t need much space.
However, Tina never went back home.
She stayed on campus during breaks with her boyfriend, Neil Jensen, who was my friend too.
Tina stood there awkwardly, clutching her pillow.
I looked at her for a moment, then shifted over in my bed, making room for her.
She crawled in beside me, her small frame tense.
The mattress dipped as she settled.
"I’ll give you a massage," she said quietly, her hands already moving to my shoulders.
Her fingers worked skillfully, easing the knots in my muscles.
I felt her breath on the back of my neck as she leaned closer.
And in that unexpected moment of silence, I realized I didn't hate her at all.
I shifted over in my narrow dorm bed, making room for Tina.
She climbed in beside me, her pillow clutched against her chest.
The mattress dipped under our combined weight.
She settled behind me, her small hands finding my tense shoulders.
Her fingers worked methodically, pressing into the knots formed from hours of studying.
The familiar scent of her shampoo filled my nose as she leaned closer.
Neither of us spoke, but the silence felt different now—comfortable rather than hostile.
Her massage slowed, becoming gentler as my muscles relaxed.
My eyes grew heavy, and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.
The sensation of her fingers on my shoulders became distant, a hazy awareness.
Her hands continued to move, but the pressure eased, becoming less purposeful.
The strokes turned languid, as if she were simply resting her hands on my skin.
Then even that sensation stopped.
I felt her shift closer, her arm draping over my waist.
The steady rhythm of her breathing against my neck told me she had fallen asleep.
But then she cleared her throat softly, and I felt her chest expand against my back as she took a deep breath.
It was as if she were preparing to speak, but the words never came.
The darkness felt thick around us.
I lay still, acutely aware of her arm over my waist.
Her breathing grew steady, though not quite deep enough to indicate sleep.
The question burned in my throat until I could no longer contain it.
My whisper broke the silence, barely audible above the hum of the heating vent.
I waited, counting heartbeats, feeling the slight twitch of her fingers against my stomach.
The mattress creaked as she shifted minutely behind me.
The arm around my waist tensed, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
I held my breath, counting the moments until she responded.
Finally, she spoke, her voice a mere whisper in my ear.
"Because I can't keep pretending."
The words hung in the darkness, heavy with meaning I couldn't quite decipher.
Her breath stirred my hair as she exhaled slowly.
Then, with a quiet rustle of sheets, she pressed closer, her forehead finding the spot between my shoulder blades.
Her voice was barely audible, cracking with emotion.
"Neil was just... I thought if you saw me with him, you'd..."
She trailed off, leaving me to wonder what she had hoped to achieve by pretending a relationship with Neil.
The mattress creaked softly as I shifted to face her in the narrow bed.
Our noses almost touched, and I felt the warmth of her breath against my skin.
"Why would you think that would change anything?" I asked, my voice a mix of confusion and hurt.
Her eyes glistened in the dim light, searching mine for understanding.
"Because I needed to know if you felt the same way," she admitted, her vulnerability laid bare between us.
My hand trembled as I lifted it to her face, watching her eyes widen as my palm cupped her cheek.
The rough texture of dried tears met my fingertips as I traced the curve of her cheekbone.
Her skin was warm, flushed from crying and confession.
The dim light filtering through the window cast shadows across her features, but I could see every detail—the gentle parting of her lips, the slight quiver of her chin, the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked.
She leaned into my palm, a small sigh escaping her.
The words came naturally, barely above a whisper.
"I truly feel the same way."
My fingers still rested against her cheek as we lay facing each other in the narrow bed.
The room was quiet, the only sound our breathing and the distant hum of the heating unit.
The dim light filtering through the window blinds cast an intimate glow over us, illuminating the details of her face.
Her dark eyes searched mine, looking for something I couldn't quite decipher.
My heart raced as I shifted closer, drawn by an invisible pull.
Her arm tightened around my waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of my sleep shirt.
Time seemed to slow as the space between us grew smaller.
Our lips met, and the silence finally spoke.
I pulled back slightly, my breath uneven as I studied her face.
Her eyes remained closed, lips still parted.
When she opened them, something I had never seen before flashed in her expression—a vulnerability, a raw emotion that spoke directly to my soul.
She shifted closer, eliminating the small distance between us.
Her fingers traced patterns on my back as she pressed her forehead to mine.
The heating unit clicked on, its white noise filling the silence.
My heart raced when she tilted her chin up, bringing our lips close again.
Her fingers trailed up my side, leaving tingles in their wake.
I shivered as her palm flattened against my chest, the warmth of her touch seeping through the thin fabric of my sleep shirt.
The hum of the heating unit provided a steady background noise, masking the sound of our racing heartbeats.
She watched me intently, her dark eyes questioning in the dim light.
When I nodded slightly, she continued her exploration, her hand sliding beneath my shirt to trace my ribs.
"Do you think we can really make this work?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of her question settle between us.
"We have to try," I replied, my voice firm with determination, "because I've never felt anything like this before."