My sleeves dangled over my palms as I tucked my legs under me on the bed. The afternoon light filtered through the blinds in soft lines, brushing across the carpet like it always did around this hour. My shoes were already off, my backpack slouched against the dresser. The whole room smelled like cinnamon tea and new paper.
Across from me, Emily was curled up on the rolling chair, legs crossed, laptop perched on her thighs. Her hair was twisted into a lazy bun, glasses sliding down her nose as she clicked around. The fan hummed quietly between us, interrupted only by the soft taps of her keyboard.
"Ugh. Professor Lin talks in riddles," I groaned, twisting the edge of my sleeve. "I swear I lost thirty percent of my brain in that lecture."
Emily snorted. "If you had thirty percent to spare, I'm impressed."
We both laughed, and I leaned sideways to peek at her screen.
"What are you doing?"
"Just clearing out notifications. Oh god, what is this group chat—why am I still in this?"
She clicked something. Then everything changed.
A video popped open.
I blinked. She froze.
Two girls—naked, tangled in white bedsheets, lips barely apart—paused in the thumbnail.
"Wait… was that—?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her hand jerked toward the mouse, hovering, but she didn't click away.
"One of the guys sent it," she said, trying to sound casual, but her voice was tighter than usual. "Typical."
I didn't laugh. I leaned in closer, even though I wasn't sure why.
And then she clicked.
The video started playing.
Low moans. Slow breathing. Two women on a bed, kissing like they meant it. One of them held the other's cheek, brushing her thumb along her jaw, pulling her closer. Their skin touched, warm and bare, their bodies moving slowly together with a kind of tenderness that felt unreal.
My mouth parted before I realized it.
I didn't feel grossed out.
I felt… warm. Curious. Like something deep in me had been waiting for this moment to arrive and didn't know what to do with it now that it had.
"Maybe we should—turn it off?" Emily whispered.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My eyes were locked on the screen.
"Have you ever…" I started, then shook my head. "Never mind."
"What?"
"Watched anything like this?"
She paused. I could hear the breath she took before answering.
"No."
A few more seconds passed. The girls on the screen were kissing harder now. One of them shifted her leg over the other, slowly grinding down, their sighs soft and real.
"Do you want me to close it?" Emily asked.
I swallowed hard.
"I… don't know."
We looked at each other then. Just for a second. But something passed between us in that glance. Something neither of us had words for.
I looked back at the screen. My chest was tight. The video kept going.
And then Emily reached out and hit pause.
The room felt like it exhaled. She hesitated again—then closed the browser.
The silence that followed didn't feel natural. It felt forced.
I pulled my legs tighter under the blanket.
Emily cleared her throat and gave a small, fake smile.
"Well… that was… weird."
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound normal. "Probably just a stupid prank."
She nodded quickly and started typing something. Campus emails, homework, anything else.
I stared at the edge of her screen, twisting my sleeve again.
"Totally forgot we have that psych paper due next week," I murmured.
"Right. God, I'm behind on everything," she said.
But the easy rhythm between us was gone. Everything we said now felt like it was standing on top of something else—something breathing just beneath the surface.
We didn't talk about what we saw.We didn't look at each other for too long.
But I felt it.
The flutter in my chest. The heat under my skin. The way my pulse kept skipping.
And when I looked at Emily, I saw it there too—in how fast she blinked, how she suddenly cared too much about adjusting her clothes, how she kept touching her hair.
Our hearts were racing.
But we didn't say a word.
Maybe it meant something. Maybe it didn't.Maybe she hadn't felt it.Maybe I had imagined it.
So we sat there in silence, two inches apart, pretending nothing happened—while something had clearly, absolutely happened.
I looked down at my hands.
I wasn't sure if I wanted her to say something first.Or if I wanted to.
Night fell quietly over campus.
The blinds cut the city lights into neat stripes across our walls. The hum of the hallway outside had quieted, the buzz of energy on our floor fading into soft footsteps and distant closing doors.
I sat on my bed, legs tucked under the blanket, scrolling through my phone. But I wasn't really reading anything. Every time I blinked, I saw them again. Kissing. Pressed together. Skin on skin.
That video hadn't left me. Not even for a minute.
Emily was by her desk, tying her hair up, moving with that kind of focused calm that felt too calm—like she didn't want to make eye contact.
"I'm gonna get some sleep," she murmured.
"Yeah… same," I said, barely louder.
She turned off the main light. Only the desk lamp stayed on, casting everything in a soft amber glow. We each slid under our blankets. Backs turned.
Not quite facing the wall.Not quite facing each other.
Our breathing slowed. Time passed.
But sleep didn't come.
Not with that heat still coiled between my thighs. Not with that ache I didn't have a name for.
I turned over again, hugging my pillow. I could hear Emily shift too.
Neither of us spoke. But I could feel it—the tension, thick and warm, like it had soaked into the sheets.
And I couldn't take it anymore.
"Emily?" I whispered into the dark.
"Yeah?"
I hesitated. My voice came out smaller than I meant it to.
"I know this is dumb, but… I feel kinda cold."
She didn't answer right away.
Then, soft and unsure—"Do you… wanna sleep over here?"
"Yeah. If that's okay."
"Yeah. I mean—yeah, of course."
I pushed the blanket back and padded quietly across the floor. The air chilled my legs. My skin prickled. I lifted her blanket and slipped under it without thinking.
She was warm. So warm.
We lay side by side, not touching. But her body was right there.
And I couldn't stop feeling it.