Chapter Text
Grumpy_cat: Hi
I blink a couple of times in surprise. That nickname... it’s the strange guy from yesterday. I sit up on the couch and type a fast reply. I wasn’t expecting him to talk to me all of a sudden, I just thought he was going to go on with his epic quest trolling creepy dudes on the internet, as he had told me he did the first and only time we chatted. After writing and erasing a couple of answers, I finally come out with a:
Emil: Hey, you
Shouldn’t have written the ‘you’ thing. Now I look like a freaking ‘cool’ dad of a series or film badly dubbed. I frown at my own text, trying to make it disappear, but, as expected, it’s of no use.
Grumpy_cat: Found anymore creepy dudes?
What does that even mean?
Emil: You mean apart from you?
Why did I type that?!?! I didn’t want to type that!!!!!!
Grumpy_cat: you think I’m creepy? ^^”
Emil: I mean, look at your username.
I bite my lower lip.
Saeran: Better?
I blink a couple of times in surprise and blush in spite of myself. Just why am I blushing?!
Emil: Is that your real name?
I ask, instead of banging my head against the walls as I would actually like to do.
Saeran: My brother was the one who made my account
Of course I would have a strange username -.-“
I try not to find adorable that he actually uses that many emojis.
Saeran: Besides, the ‘cat’ thing attracted quite a lot of perverts
Emil: I think I can guess why
Saeran: I read those chess books you recommended me.
Already? I raise an eyebrow, surprised, and taking the chance that my sister is passing by to show her my ability raising a single eyebrow.
“Stupid chess nerd,” she whispers. She has always wanted to be able to do it.
Emil: What did you think?
Saeran: They’re interesting
Emil: ofc, they’re chess books
They’re meant to go about chess, yah know?
Chess is interesting
Saeran: Hahahaha!
Sorry, sorry ;)
I blush at the emoji. Just how can he get the idea of a cocky smile through the phone? I look at his avatar picture to try and imagine him better, but it’s black.
Emil: how could you read all that in so little time?
Saeran: I... have
Quite a lot of free time.
The answer didn’t come straight away like usually, so I try to brush it off. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable... since I’m bored!! I’m bored, so I want to continue talking to him, alright?! Any problem?! No? I guessed so.
Emil: I would imagine that of a guy who devotes on playing pranks on creepy people
My conversations with Saeran have become more frequent. He is... entertaining.
Emil: Hey
I applaud myself at the greeting.
Saeran: Hi, Emil
Are you nervous?
I hold back a smile. He remembers!!!
Emil: Hmpf
Of course I’m not nervous.
I’ve participated in chess competitions since I was a kid
This is nothing for me
Saeran: Is that so?
I’m sure you’ll do great, then.
Emil: Are you implying that if I were, which I’m not, if I were nervous I wouldn’t do well? Because that’s silly, alright.
I’m not nervous, alright?
Saeran:... so you are nervous after all
I guessed so
Emil: I’m telling you I’m...
I stop typing midsentence and send it without realising, since I’m too busy looking at Saeran’s last message. He has sent a picture of himself. Well, of his eyes. He is partially hidden behind a chess book, which I find embarrassingly sexy, and his green eyes look at the camera above it. He has a beautiful messy red hair and his skin looks pale. But what makes my heart beat faster is the fucking eyeliner. He’s wearing fucking eyeliner and my heart doesn’t know how to handle that.
Saeran: So...
...
I’m studying chess, so I’m cheering for you, alright?
I’m pretty conscious that I’m not saying a thing, but how am I supposed to? What should I say?! YOU LOOK FUCKING GORGEOUS AND I CAN’T EVEN SEE HALF OF YOUR FREAKING FACE?!!?!?!?!?!?!?! Thanks, but no thanks.
“Whatever are you yelling?” my sister asks, knocking on my door as she passes by my room.
“Fuck off!!” I exclaim at her.
Emil: I’ll send you a picture after finishing the tournament and getting the trophy
Why did I promise that?!?!?!?! I throw my phone to the wall in front of me, going all pale when I realise what I have done.
“No, no, nononononono, my babe, are you alright?” I baby-talk to the phone, close to tears. At that moment, it buzzes, making me startle and dropping it.
Saeran: I’m looking forward to it.
Fuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkk!!! I am about to throw it again, but I stop myself. That was fucking close!!!
I won the tournament. Of course I did. I take my phone and text my parents, pretty proud of myself, and the only friend I have at school who’s not a chess nerd and hasn’t actually participated on the tournament and then I text fucking Saeran.
Emil: I won.
I turn on the camera of the phone and put it on selfie mode. I’m a freaking mess. I look tired, sweaty and sloppy, and I feel like uninstalling the app and forget all about gorgeous Saeran if that would prevent me from having to send the picture. I get to stop my impulses, though. What if I look terrible? I don’t give a fuck, alright? It’s the brain what counts in chess, ok? The brain! And I’ve just shown all of them I have a pretty well-functioning one in here.
I send the picture to him without looking at it not to regret my decision.
Saeran: cute
Cute? What’s cute? I’m cute? Winning a tournament is cute? I look around me, there’s nothing cute round here. Is the trophy cute?
Saeran: Congrats.
I can’t help but noticing he seems somehow down.
Emil: thanks.
I hesitate, but end up asking.
Emil: you alright?
Saeran: maybe we should stop talking.
‘Maybe we should stop talking.’ Those words echo in my head as I look at the teacher, talking about God-knows-what, and bite furiously on my pen. You know what I did after reading those words? Of course, I fucking stopped talking to him!! Who needs a gorgeous Saeran when I have my precious game?! I continue caressing my queen under the table and ignore Eddy, who’s trying to tell me something since the beginning of the class.
“Emil, this is History, not Maths!” he whispers.
‘Maybe we should stop talking,’ he says. Well, you can go and mute yourself! Not that I’m going to cry, you know? Not that I have cried already!!!
Tsk. Well, he can stop talking to me if he wants to, but why should I? I’m a pretty chatty guy, you know? And I don’t take other people’s orders or ‘suggestions.’ Yeah, that’s right! I can continue writing to him!! Of course I can!! I can talk to him even though he doesn’t answer! Because I’m an interesting dude, so I just need myself to have fun! That’s right!! Let’s do just so!
Having finally found the perfect excuse to talk to Saeran again, I take my phone and type on it a quick ‘hi.’
“Emil!!!” I squeal when the teacher’s chalk lands dangerously close to my precious face. “Stop laughing like a creepy idiot!”
The class starts laughing at me and the teacher stops next to me, stretching out his hand for me to give him my phone.
“And this isn’t Maths. This is History,” he points at my book.
He finally goes away and I turn to face Eddy.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried to,” he whines, but I don’t listen to him, too busy taking out my History book as I mutter complaints under my breath.