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Her Creative Writing: Netflix and Chill

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Utah chapter.

Blackness surrounds us, creating a small orb of light shining from his laptop. I watch Batman on the screen, standing in the cave and allowing his fear of bats to consume him. Will’s arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against his chest. Classic spooning foreplay. Only it doesn’t feel like foreplay. Instead of tickling my sides and pursuing other dark intentions, his arm tightens around me and holds me. Just holds me. Cuddling is safe and comforting, so why am I terrified?

I choose to let it surround and consume me. According to Batman, you have to become your fear in order to master it. I allow myself to feel the rhythm of his breathing, and the tickle of his scruff against my face.

“How old was Christian Bale in this movie?” He asks.

I jump at the sound of his voice so close to me. Only Will would pause a movie to look up the age of the main actor. I expect him to release me and grab his laptop so he can google. Instead, he leans closer to me and punches C..H..R.. with his index finger. His face is inches away from mine. I hold my breath, then let it escape in a laugh. “That might take you a while,” I whisper.

He looks at me for a brief moment, and I stare back at his green eyes. “You may want to get comfy then,” he says, and the keys continue. I. S.T.I.A.N.

I find myself wishing the actor’s last name was longer. The cursor slowly drags across the screen and back to the Netflix tab. Will’s arm tightens around my waist again, pulling me closer. Goosebumps race up my thighs, then are instantly warmed as I press them against him.

The glow of the laptop makes my eyes heavy. I close them, but can still see the bright flashes when something blows up. I trace my fingers along Will’s forearm, as if creating a soothing soundtrack.

Stillness has always confused me. Will hasn’t moved in what feels like hours. I feel his hot breath against my face and realize he has fallen asleep. I freeze, not wanting to breathe let alone move.  Is this what normal hook up buddies do? I think to myself, exhaling slowly. Panic dances up my spine, I press my back closer to him and let the dark fears consume me.

I love Cabins surrounded by trees and words that combine into a beautiful story. Creating stories from my awkward life experiences is almost as great as listening to a rainstorm pattering against my window as I drift off to sleep. 
Her Campus Utah Chapter Contributor