Habits

Drunk

[Inspired by that little bit of information from their cooking live.]

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It was a habit.

Was it a good one? A bad one? An unhealthy one?

I didn't really know... But it was mine, and I have no intention of stopping.

I don't even remember when it started or how it started. It just happened and it kept on happening.

Even when we weren't in good terms, it still happened. It doesn't matter if we were in a fight or if we were 'sulking' at the moment. Doesn't matter if we were miles away from each other or in different countries.

I kept calling, I keep calling, and she kept on answering and she keeps on answering.

"My phone, where's my phone?" I ask frantically as my hands grasp around the bed to feel for it. "P'Daad, my phone. My phone!"

"It's with me, it has no more battery. P'Sun will just come wake you up in the morning," P'Daad says as she starts to take my shoes off.

"No, no, no!" I shake my head, kicking a little and hitting her in the process. Even in my drunken haze and dim lit room, I see her glare at me. "Give it to me, and charge it, quickly!"

P'Daad stops her actions and looks down at me with questioning eyes. "Engfa, you're drunk, you don't plan on going on live, right? It's almost 3AM!"

"I'm not!" I say irritably, again kicking a little in frustration. She was asking too much questions and she was taking up too much time. "Just charge my phone, P'Daad!"

"I will! I will!" she finally does as I say. Finally. She comes back a minute later and hands me my phone which was connected to a power bank.

I tap on the screen and was met with a black screen. "It's not on!!!"

"Just give it a second!" P'Daad shouts back.

Before I can whine and complain again, the phone's screen comes to life.

"You can leave now," I tell P'Daad, as I struggle through unlocking the phone and finding the familiar name's number.

"What will you do if she doesn't answer?" P'Daad suddenly asks. I knew that she knew what I was planning to do all along.

"She'll answer," I say stubbornly. 

She always does.

P'Daad sighs, a long one that was a mixture of exasperation and pity. "I worry what will happen one day if she stops answering."

"She'll answer," I repeat harshly at her with a glare.

"Don't call her until the battery's at like 10%, Engfa, god knows what you'll do if the call cuts off in the middle," P'Daad says with a shake of her head, and with that, she gives me one last look and leaves the room.

I do as P'Daad says, and as soon as the phone battery hits 10%, I tap on the call button and place the phone against my ear.

The phone rings... once... twice... thrice... I suddenly feel a cold chill run through my body as I recall P'Daad's words form earlier, 'What will you do if she doesn't answer?'

But she always answers. 

Always.

And before the fourth ring, her voice fills my ears and my being, and the cold chill gets replaced by her warmth.

"P'Fa?"

I usually never say anything, I just call to hear her voice. There were instances that I was drunk enough to say things that should have been left unspoken, but most of the time, just hearing her voice sobers me up enough to get out of that level of drunkenness.

"Just tell me you're okay, please."

"I'm okay," I respond.

And then like usual, we just let the sounds of our breathing and rustling sheets lull us both to sleep.

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A/N: Justice for Charlotte's omelette! Lol.