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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 wasn’t enough.
I loathed Tina.
Detested her.
Abhorred her.
The feeling was mutual, I was sure.
Tina didn’t like me either.
Our relationship was a paradox.
We were roommates yet enemies, cohorts in crime yet adversaries; our bond was strong but our personalities clashed.
If someone asked me to describe Tina in one word, I’d say complex.
If they asked me to describe myself in one word, I’d say average.
Tina was petite with straight black hair while I had curly brown hair that reached the middle of my back.
I was introverted and analytical; Tina was outspoken and spontaneous.
We didn’t look alike.
We didn’t act alike.
Yet we had the same major and shared the same suite during freshman year.
That’s where Neil Jensen came in—the fresh variable that was added to the equation at the beginning of sophomore year.
I stared at the ceiling, considering Tina’s request.
The silence was thick as she stood there, shifting from one foot to the other.
Against my better judgment, I scooted over and lifted the blanket.
Tina practically dove in, her cold feet brushing against my legs.
She curled up facing away from me, her back pressed against my side.
The scent of coconut shampoo wafted into my nostrils.
Neither of us spoke.
Minutes ticked by.
Just as I was drifting off, the door burst open and light flooded in from the hallway.
Tina bolted upright beside me as we saw her silhouette in the doorway.
It was Neil Jensen, holding a letter that would change everything.
Neil’s tall frame filled the doorway, blocking the light from the hallway.
He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling as he clutched a crumpled envelope in his trembling hand.
Tina sprang up from beside me, her warmth and weight vanishing as she scrambled to sit at the edge of my bed.
I remained frozen, watching Neil’s glasses fog up from his labored breathing.
The fluorescent light from the hallway cast harsh shadows across his usually friendly face, twisting it into a mask of concern.
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door with more force than usual.
The sound made Tina flinch.