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Usually it’s Zach that never shuts up. Chris knows, the guy loves to hear himself talk, and Chris is fine with that. But lately, with everything happening in the world today, every awful thing on the news that makes him want to just pack a bag and head to some cut off, tv and wifi-less cabin in the mountains somewhere, with the fucking phone on speaker as he rants himself into tears about it all and how he can’t believe this is the world, man, and how did we even get to this ugly point?
Zach stays quiet and lets him rant himself silent. And after he wipes his face and blows his nose and sits out on his patio overlooking his garden in the sun, where everything seems unaffected by the horror outside these walls, the line stays open. He can hear Zach breathing, hear the clink of a glass on a table, hear a soft sigh.
"You’re still here?" he asks. "You don’t wanna hang up?"
He hears a huff of a laugh, but Zach doesn’t say anything. And somehow, even three thousand miles away, it feels like they’re just occupying the same space together, taking comfort in the mere idea of each other’s physical company.