"Yeah." Zach stood up quickly, then shrugged. "Well, you ever, uh, want to come by the studio when you're not so fucking hurt, I got something. For Andi." He folded his arms, then gave another shrug. "Just a piece of shite but I figured. Eh. What the fuck ever. I can owl it."
Warrington looked as tired as he felt. A strange urge was trembling inside him, to lift a finger and run it across the other man's forehead, brush that stray lock of hair back... Zach blinked quickly. Fuck. He needed to go.
"Anyhow. Yeah. Let you get to wherever you were going, right?" The taller man leaned against the brick, simply watching, his eyes fixed on the curve of a cheek, then the lobe of an ear, looking at him in pieces as if he was part of a puzzle. Or something broken that needed to be put back together.