Jongin 

You're the one I want to want me. - Jason Derulo "Want To Want Me" 

“Do you need to piss or something?” Kyungsoo asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I was acting jittery, looking back and forth from the clock to the stairs leading to my room. I didn’t need to “piss”, as it had been put so eloquently, I was just anxious because it was getting late, and Kyungsoo had made no move to leave yet. Since my little revelation two days ago, I had wanted to do nothing but talk to Natalie. Of course, that was the only thing that I didn’t do. Every time I logged on and checked if she was online, it turned out that she had logged off minutes ago. It was agonizing, missing her because I took too long walking up the stairs, or because I decided to be responsible and finish work before talking to her. For all I knew, she could be waiting for me right now, feeling the same agony as I had been feeling. 

But of course, intrusive Kyungsoo had been flipping through channels mindlessly for hours, never settling on what he wanted to watch. He had come over with the pretense of wanting to spend quality time with me, but that wasn’t happening at all. He just ended up eating every bit of junk food we have, taking advantage of my wifi, and occasionally drifting off on my couch. It wasn’t helping anyone, and it most definitely wasn’t worth missing the chance to talk to Natalie for. 

I really needed to ask for her number. Would that be intrusive? Did she think we were on that level yet? 

“No, I don’t.” I answered Kyungsoo’s question before he commented on me being absentminded. “I just think it’s a little late, is all. Shouldn’t you be getting home? Your mom likes to worry, doesn’t she?” He rolled his eyes at me in response. I wasn’t exactly being subtle anymore, but Kyungsoo couldn’t take a hint. 

“It’s Friday night and it’s only 8:45. If I go home now, my mom will be under the impression that I need something.” He said, stretching as he sat up. 

“Well, I don’t know how soon my parents will be home, and they don’t really like you.” I lied, trying to get him to leave as soon as possible so I could get to my real priorities. 

“C’mon, they’ve known me since we were six. They have to like me!” He whined. 

“Nope. My mom is totally prejudiced against you because you never came to any of my competitions. They constantly ask if I’ve stopped hanging out with you.” I said, trying my best to sound like I was telling the truth. For all I know, it could be the truth. My parents weren’t exactly enthusiastic when I mentioned I was hanging out with Kyungsoo and the rest of the guys. I guess they figured that I started hanging out with them frequently at about the same time that I decided I was never going to dance again. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. 

For everyone other than Kyungsoo, that is. 

I was practically pushing him out the door and he was still looking for something to watch. 

“Plus,” I began, not even being able to get his attention away from the old black and white picture he was pretending to be interested in, “it’s getting kind of dark. I heard there’s people getting mugged around here lately, I don’t want you to risk it.” He turned off the TV finally, clearly annoyed at me. 

“I live five houses down, I’m pretty sure I’ll live.” He shook his head at me. “But yeah, I think I’ll head out now. You’re acting weirder than I like you being.” He eyed me suspiciously as he reached for his school bag. I walked him, practically ran him, to the door. 

“It’s all in the interest of your safety, dude.” I said, adding a chuckle. 

“Whatever, have fun fapping.” He raised his eyebrows at me before leaving. 

I wasted no time in slamming the door and sprinting upstairs. I ran to my laptop, opening it and signing on with top speed. Luckily, she hadn’t been online in a while. Maybe she just got tired of waiting for me? 

I panicked. This was pretty much what I had been like for the last few days. Acknowledging that you have interest in somebody does weird things to your system. You get jittery at every moment. You also get miserable every time the realization that you’re not entirely sure if they like you or not pops up. 

And you spend 15 minutes refreshing a dead website hoping that they’ll log on before you go mad. 

And the second they sign online, you send an overly enthusiastic, stupid Hey! as a greeting, making it pretty freaking obvious that you’ve been doing nothing but waiting for the exact moment that they logged on. 

I wanted to beat my head against my desk. Let the record reflect that Kim Jongin is not in the least bit smooth, and is in fact, an idiot. If Soojung or any of the other girls that swoon over me, and consider me to be some mysterious heartbreaker could see me now, they’d laugh at how awful I was when I was in their shoes. 

Hi! she replied. I wasn’t sure if she was equally happy to hear from me, or if she was mocking my lame greeting. 

You’re on a little later than usual today. Did you do anything special? My fingers typed without my permission, furthering the evidence that I was waiting for her to get online. It was like I was doing everything possible to creep her out. 

I went on a blind date. She said. 

I couldn’t really muster anything out. It was like I could feel my excitement being drained out of me. I was finally going to tell her that I thought I had feelings for her, and she hits me with this arrow to the face. 

I had subconsciously sent her an Oh, my mind following the trend of being obvious. Knowing that wasn’t something a normal, friendly person would say, I followed it up with a questioned that was both something someone curious would ask, and something my jealousy needed to know. Was he nice? 

He was nice. She answered bluntly. I couldn't tell what emotion was behind that opinion, but it most certainly was not disgust. Complete jealousy took over the next question I asked, no longer caring to be secretive about my distaste. 

Was he good looking?  I asked, hoping more than anything her answer would be no. But of course, that would be too easy. 

He was good looking. 

“Whatever.” I scoffed. “I’m probably much better looking.” 

As much as I childishly tried to prove that I was much better than this mysterious guy, I knew that her responses just meant I had to act now. I hadn’t planned to do this for a while, but certain circumstances, and high doses of jealousy, made this the only appropriate time to ask. 

Can I ask you something? You can totally say no if you want to, it’s okay with me. 

Anything. That’s kind of how most of our conversations go, isn’t it? 

My hands shook, my courage suddenly dragging down my ability to ask a simple question. Maybe it was the possibility that she could reject me upfront, finally, that made me nervous. Maybe it was the fact that this question could prove that she was a fake, that I had fallen for some bored kid behind a computer screen. Or maybe she was someone I knew, that would run around telling all her friends that Kim Jongin had fallen for her through a website catered to the socially inept. Maybe that was a harsh word to use, but I wouldn’t hesitate to say that to someone who found out what I had been using to meet people. 

Can I have your phone number? I hit enter anyway, fully expecting the worst, but praying for the best. 

She agreed, sending me her number. It gave me hope that she had at least slight interest in me, since she had technically agreed to be able to communicate with me more often. It also gave me more hope, since she had the same area code as I did. Maybe she wasn’t so far away, and maybe it could be taken to the next level soon. 

I didn’t want to appear too eager like I had before. I took my time walking across my room to get my phone. I made it almost painfully slow, even for me. I took deep breaths, practicing how I would say my greetings, or what I would even say. I didn’t want to croak while on the phone with her. 

I, Kim Jongin, the guy infamous for seducing unsuspecting females in the name of my friends, was getting nervous about a phone call. I guess this was a good sign. I guess I was getting my feelings back. After what seemed like long enough to be casual, I dialed the number, my palms sweating more than I’d like to admit. It rang, but I could hardly hear it over the sounding of my heart pounding in my ears, embarrassingly. I almost jumped when the phone connected. 

“Hello?” A small voice greeted me. I almost wanted to laugh in pure delight. She sounded adorable, and not the kind of adorable that seemed forced, but the one that came naturally. 

“Natalie?” I asked. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t tried extra hard to make my voice sound attractive. 

I asked if she was her because, although it might’ve been my paranoia setting in, my Natalie could’ve just given me any random number in attempt to get me off her back. For all I knew, I could currently be on the phone with someone on a hotline. 

“Hi.” She answered in the same sweet tone, shattering my pessimistic thoughts. 

“Hi.” I repeated, suddenly not knowing what to say. 

“Hold on.” She whispered. What came next was what sounded like huffing, and light steps. A few moments later, she spoke again. “Okay, hi.” She said, slightly out of breath. I laughed involuntarily at how cute she sounded. 

“What was that?” I asked, amused. 

“My sister was asleep, I didn’t want to wake her up. So I ran to the patio.” She admitted, a little laugh at her own actions followed. 

“So…” I began, trying to break the silence that followed. I wondered if she was nervous too, or if talking was hard for her. I didn’t exactly want to make her nervous, I liked the comfortability I thought she felt when we talked, but then again, nervousness could mean she felt the same way. 

“So…” She repeated. Every time she spoke, I had to cover my mouth because I smiled. She was real. The girl I thought about nonstop was real. And she sounded cute, that was an extreme plus. 

“How was that date?” I asked, immediately shutting my eyes at my own stupidity. She laughed, which made my self hatred go away immediately. I had only heard it a couple of times, but I already determined that her laugh could stop a war. 

“It was okay, I suppose. He was polite. A photographer.” She said, nodding off after that. 

“So you liked him?” I concluded, a little disappointment slipped through my lips. 

“I mean, I guess I liked some parts of him. He definitely seemed like someone that would be every girl’s dream.” 

“What an .” I muttered, not remembering that she could hear my comments. She laughed louder this time, making my head spin. 

“Yeah, kind of.” She laughed at her confession. My cheeks would be upturned permanently by the time this conversation was over. 

“I thought you said he was every girl’s dream.” I mocked her previous statement. 

“Well, I guess not every girl.” She said slowly. I bit my lips trying to stop myself from rejoicing out loud. 

“Too bad for that guy.” I said, calmly. 

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate that I had someone else in mind.” 

“Oh.” I said again. It seemed like that was my involuntary response of the day. It send her into absolute hysterics. “What?” I asked, confused and embarrassed. 

“You’re a little dim, aren’t you?” She asked after she had finished laughing at me. 

“What do you mean?” I whined. 

“I’m referring to you.” 

“Oh.” I said again, making her laugh again. My smile stretched from ear to ear, and I felt myself go red. “You’re bold, aren’t you. Saying that outright like that?” 

“Not really out of nowhere. I took this phone call to be an opening of the door, so to speak.”

“And what makes you think this was an invitation.” I teased, wanting to hear her say she was interested in me again and again. 

“I’m not an idiot. I know that when some guy I’ve been talking to for a while asks for my number, he’s interested in me.” She paused for a few seconds. “Unless I’m an idiot, and you’re just really nice and laughing at my misinterpretation as we speak.” 

“No, you’re right.” I admitted, rubbing my neck, feeling like I would start jumping around in absolute giddiness any second now. “I am interested in you.” 

“Good.” She said, probably at a loss for what to say like I was. 

“I’m also not sleepy at all, and very interested to hear about this failed date of yours. Do you mind staying up and talking all night?” 

“Not at all.” 

I always enjoy writing previous conversations in the other's point of view, just to show different perspectives and whatnot. I hope you all enjoy! 

J