Smitten - Mickey Altieri x male oc

1

A ringing telephone can be heard from a distance before a hand reaches for it, bringing the receiver up to the face of Casey Becker.

"Hello." Casey said into the receiver, wondering who is calling her at night.

"Hello." A creepy, deep and raspy voice can be heard from the other line, gaining a shiver from the girl.

There is a beat of silence before Casey opens her mouth to answer. "Yes?"

"Who is this?" He asked.

"Who are you trying to reach?" Casey asked.

"What number is this?" He asked again.

"What number are you trying to reach?" Casey asked.

"I don't know." He said.

"I think you have the wrong number." Casey said.

"Do I?" He asked.

"It happens. Take it easy." Casey said, hanging up the phone. She turned around and walked to the kitchen when the phone rang again, stopping her.

She picks up the phone, placing it against her ear. "Hello."

"I'm sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number." It was that same raspy, creepy and deep voice guy again.

"So why did you dial it again?" Casey asked, confused.

"To apologize."

"You're forgiven. Bye now." Casey said, wanting to quickly end the phone call with the strange man.

"Wait, wait, don't hang up." The man quickly said, stopping her immediately.

Casey moves to stands in front of a sliding glass door. She squinted her eyes slightly to look at the darkness, wondering if she could see anything out there. "What?"

"I want to talk to you for a second."

"They've got 900 numbers for that. Seeya." Casey said, hanging up the phone with a small content grin on her face.

Casey turned around to look at the popcorn sizzling in a pot on the stove when the phone rang again. Casey covers it with a lid, reaching for the portable phone. "Hello."

"Why don't you want to talk to me?"

"Who is this?"

"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine."

"I don't think so." Casey said, shaking the popcorn pot.

"What's that noise?"

Casey smiles. "Popcorn."

"You're making popcorn?"

"Uh-huh."

"I only eat popcorn at the movies."

"I'm getting ready to watch a video."

"Really? What?"

"Just some scary movie."

"Do you like scary movies?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The man asked, a flirtatious tone heard in his deep and raspy voice.

Casey moves away from the stove and takes a seat at the kitchen counter, directly in front of the glass door. "I don't know."

"You have to have a favorite."