February 4th

***

Talia: Hey again. Are you good??

Soren: Yeah. Sorry.

Talia: Thank goodness you're alive. What's wrong?

Soren: Nothing you need to know.

Talia: Okay, Mr. Grouchy.

Soren: If I call, will you answer?

Talia: It depends. Will you tell me what's wrong?

Soren: Possibly.

Talia: You're probably from the NSA. Tracking my address right now to come kill me in the middle of the night.

Soren: Or a normal 18 year old boy who coincidentally happens to have the same area code as you. Take your pick.

Talia: I forgot about that, actually. Does that mean you live nearby?

Soren: Obviously, smart one.

Talia: You have five seconds to call before I change my mind (:

Talia: 5...

Talia: 4...

I was in the middle of typing out the number three when my phone began to ring.

> Incoming call from Soren.

Taking a deep breath, I tapped 'accept' with trembling hands. It hadn't occurred to me until now that the wrong-number boy was actually a real person. As soon as the call began, I hurriedly put it onto speaker, but was met with silence.

"Hello?" I said in a tiny voice, feeling unsettled with the idea of talking to a stranger over the phone.

I was about to hang up when a voice stopped me. It was smooth and soft – nothing like I would've ever expected.

"Hey, sunshine."

What immediately took me off guard was how Soren sounded. The first thing I noticed was the light undertone of an accent lacing his words. It surprised me so much that I had to do a double take before responding.

"Hi," I said again, stupidly enough. It hadn't occurred to me that calling Soren meant having an actual, voice-to-voice conversation with him. If that wasn't intimidating on its own, then what was?

The sound of his voice sent a chill down my spine, as cheesy as that was. I didn't know if he was purposely making it sound that deep and smooth, but it seemed unlikely that anybody's voice could naturally be so... perfect.

"Hi," he imitated lightly, and I felt a tiny smile creep onto my face.

"Why do you have an accent?" I quickly asked, not bothering to hide my excitement. Accents in general excited me, and Soren's was noticeable in some words he said. The overall adorable-ness made my heart scream.

I heard a chuckle from the other end of the line. "Because I was raised in Denmark," Soren answered in a good-natured manner.

Denmark? As far as I knew, it was located by Sweden. I'm pretty sure it was part of New Zealand. Curse me for not paying attention in geography.

"Well, I mean..." I trailed off, feeling dumbfounded. "How?"

"Uhmm... because I was raised in Denmark?" he repeated, and I made the decision to stop sounding like a complete fool.

"It just surprised me," I admitted, suddenly remembering my anxiousness. "You never mentioned you were... Denmarkian?"

Soren chuckled lightly again. "And you never mentioned you were American. To me, you have a bit of an accent too."

"Oh," I frowned. "What's it sound like?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, where I briefly heard muffled laughter.

"...American?"

Soren's response sent me into a fit of giggles. I closed my eyes and grinned as hard as I could. My head spun, but I paid it no mind, for the warmth in the pit of my stomach was too overwhelming.

"You're interesting," I remarked, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. "Do you wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

I leaned forward and set my phone on my pillow, pulling my arms into my grey hoodie. Nobody but my dog was home, so I wasn't particularly worried about getting questioned for talking to a boy over the phone this early in the morning.

9:27 A.M, to be exact.

For a moment, Soren was quiet on the other end of the line. "I stubbed my toe," he finally said, with zero trace of joking in his voice.

I almost snorted at his utmost seriousness. "You called me just to tell me that you got a boo-boo?"

"No," he laughed lightly, "I called to hear your voice."

His remark caught me off guard, to say the very least. My hopeless heart skipped a beat at I processed his words, and I almost forgot to reply.

"Well, here you go," I joked. "Hope you're not too overwhelmed."

"I'm not. Now guide me, woman. What do I do about my toe?"

Soren's lingering accent made everything he said so much better. Not only did I enjoy listening to his warm voice, but it was soothing, too. If I closed my eyes, I would surely doubt my ability to stay awake.

"I dunno," I finally shrugged, even though he couldn't see me. "Wrap it in peas or something."

"Peas?" Soren asked incredulously.

"Did I stutter?"

"Nope. I have to go now."

I frowned, hearing faint static interrupt our call. "You do that a lot."

In only a second, the static grew so loud that it warped Soren's voice when he spoke again. The crackling noise was unsettling, sending goosebumps up my arms.

"I'm sorry," he said briefly.

Shortly afterwards, I heard three telltale beeps, signaling the end of our call.