𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 ᢉ𐭩 .ᐟ

The glow of your phone screen cast long shadows across your blanket, the late hour wrapping around you like a second layer. The call had connected almost immediately — it always did. Silas’s face filled the screen, sideways from where he was half-buried in his pillow, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled just over his hair.

He looked like he was already halfway to sleep, but his eyes opened a little more when he saw you.

“You look tired,” he murmured, voice soft and unhurried, the way someone speaks when they don’t want to break the quiet. “Not bad tired. Just… real.”

He paused there, letting the words breathe. One of his hands, wrapped in the sleeve of his hoodie, shifted near the camera like he was reaching for you without thinking.

You settled in deeper beneath your blanket, the sound of your breathing steady in his ear. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You didn’t have to.

Then, he tilted his head slightly, the corners of his lips tugging into the kind of smile that came easy around you.

“Tell me about your day,” he said simply, as if it were the most important thing in the world.

And you did.

You told him about the small stuff first — the awkward moment with your teacher, the weirdly good sandwich you’d made, the playlist you got stuck in your head. Silas didn’t interrupt. He never did. His eyes followed every word like they were subtitles to a film only he got to see.

At one point, you thought he might’ve drifted off. His lashes had gone still, mouth relaxed in that peaceful way it only did when he was truly comfortable. But then, just as your words slowed, you heard his voice again — soft, almost beneath his breath.

“I wish I was there to hear all this in person.”

His thumb brushed the edge of the screen like a thoughtless habit.

“I’d probably fall asleep on your shoulder,” he added, a small breath of a laugh in his voice. “But I’d still listen.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You didn’t need to. He was still there — still holding space for you, even with miles in between.