Dial Drunk - Post Malone

52

Austin can't sleep. It's past midnight and his brain is wired, his eyes wide. His bedroom window is open and he can hear the city sounds in the distance and the occasional car drive past the house. The air around him is also stifling, stale, and has a suffocating scent to it. His phone that he has placed on his chest feels heavy and vibrates occasionally as messages from people, not friends, just people come through. They ask for money or for him to get them into clubs or take them to parties. They offer him a good time. Nights full of fun, fuelled with alcohol and bad choices. He won't lie and say the temptation does not hammer at his chest, it does. He won't lie and say if there were a bottle of whisky in this house he would take a sip, just one tiny little sip. Being in recovery is hard. Fucking hard. Because being in recovery means those voices in your head are gone but they are replaced with images of truth - reproductions of the damage he caused with his bad decisions and without alcohol all he can do is face them. Shame is a hard emotion to sit with. On the upside all his senses have come back, he didn't even realise they had dulled. Food tastes better, and his smell and hearing are sharper too. Even his touch, it's weird but he swears he can feel more and so his mind will often wonder to how Levi's skin will now feel under his new sense of touch - it will be fucking insane that's for sure.

His phone vibrates again and an ambulance with wailing sirens screams past his house, hammering at his brain and making his jaw clench. He can't do this. He can't do this anymore so he sits up, takes his phone and dials Levi's number. It's crazy, it's after midnight and the poor woman is sleeping but he needs to ask her something. He needs to make a decision and he wants her opinion. It rings for a long time and he sighs, being deaf has its perks - your sleep is not easily disturbed by some wayward asshole calling in the early hours of the morning.

But then suddenly her face pops onto his screen, sleep rumpled and groggy. She looks beautiful. "Do you always look so beautiful, sweet?" he signs. Her face scrunches into that baby goat scrunch and she glares at him. He should feel bad and he does a little, but, come on, no one can blame him for the butterflies in his stomach at seeing her face. They are in the same city, thirty minutes apart from each other. But, he had been serious about his recovery and earning her back. It's been a week since he has been home and they have become friends again, speaking on the phone and texting, but he has focused on his sobriety - going to AA meetings and even starting a fitness routine. Grassy almost died on their run yesterday, he had called 911 and claimed Austin was trying to kill him - it took a lot of explaining on Austin's part. Dam Grassy. He loves him so much.

"It's almost 1 am. Why are you calling? You OK?" she signs then looks at him. He can see the worry in her eyes, he can see her trust in him is still shaky. It's natural and to be expected, he had lied to her so much in the past. This is why he wants to prove himself to her before he ever lets anything progress between them. The previous two times they tried were filled with love for each other, love they still have now - but he had not respected her own what she had given to him. This time he will make sure they build their life on the foundations of respect while their love glues it all together. This time will be done right. This time is forever.

"I am fine, sweet. I have not had anything to drink, look I will show you," he signs then climbs out of bed and props his phone up against his bedside lamp and turns the main light on then stands in front of the phone. He lifts his right foot and rests it on his left knee then touches his nose with his finger, he has to concentrate on not toppling over. He succeeds because he is sober, he hasn't had a drink since before the potato field. He holds it for a full minute then puts his foot back down and leans into the phone, grinning. Levi is smiling, her shoulders shaking. "Idiot," she signs as she rolls her eyes.

"I love you too and I am a sober idiot," he signs then takes his phone and climbs back into bed. "Why are you phoning so late?" she signs. "I have made a decision, but I would like your buy-in before I make it final. It affects you...us," he signs.