(no subject)
(It's late on a Saturday night, and Zach isn't out flirting with the crowds. Something's kept him home--besides the biting temperatures of encroaching Autumn, his precious computer sanctuary, and, of course, the noisy slasher flick in the DVD player.
Clicking the volume down to a low murmur of screams and chainsaws, Zach searches for his cell phone in his loose jeans. There's a book closed on his desk with a bookmark peeking out of it, and Charles' number scrawled across in spidery handwriting. He snatches this up, too.
First saving the number under Charles--it's funny, he's only got 5 contacts in his address book, including Eddy--and then pressing call, the brunette cradles the phone against his shoulder. Listens to it ring.)
Clicking the volume down to a low murmur of screams and chainsaws, Zach searches for his cell phone in his loose jeans. There's a book closed on his desk with a bookmark peeking out of it, and Charles' number scrawled across in spidery handwriting. He snatches this up, too.
First saving the number under Charles--it's funny, he's only got 5 contacts in his address book, including Eddy--and then pressing call, the brunette cradles the phone against his shoulder. Listens to it ring.)