Dial Drunk: Chapter 1
Summary: Melissa gets a little liquid courage to let the walls crumble around her.
Warnings: Drunk Mel
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You never keep your phone on, but you had been waiting for a call from your sister about whether she had made it to her conference on the West Coast safely so you fell asleep with it on full blast. Which is why when it rings loudly at three in the morning, you jump out of bed to answer it.
“Amy, did you make it safe?” You ask, not bothering to look at who is calling.
“Is Amy your girlfriend?” A familiar voice asks.
You pull the phone away to look at the caller ID. A picture of Melissa at the teacher v student basketball game greets you. Your heart begins to race because Melissa never calls you. She is an avid texter but was adamantly against phone calls unless someone was on their deathbed.
“Melissa, are you okay?” You ask when you put the phone back against your ear.
“Is Amy your girlfriend?” She asks, but this time there is a tremor in her voice.
You roll your eyes, flopping back against your bed. “Amy is my sister. The lawyer that you constantly ask if you can have a speed dial, remember?” There is a pause where Melissa grunts in vague recognition. “She was headed to California for a conference and was supposed to let me know she got there safely.”
You take a moment to actually look at your phone and realize that Amy had texted you a picture of her soaking up the sun at the beach hours after you had fallen asleep. You call her an asshole in a text before you put your attention back on the call with Melissa.
“Melissa, are you okay?” You ask again, punctuating each word.
There is silence on the line before a quiet sniffle. “Yeah, I just…been drinking.” Another sniffle before a soft sigh. “It has been making me sit in my head more than I want.”
“That’s why I stopped drinking,” you admit softly. “Want to talk about it?”
“I just want you,” Melissa says and you feel your heart stall in your chest.
“I’m here Mel,” you reassure her but you are met with muffled crying on the other line. It takes you so off guard that you don’t know what to say, you just let the silence expand around you uncomfortably.
It takes a couple moments before the older woman finally hiccups. “No, I want you here. Now. Not just on the phone.”
“Alright, where is here?” you ask climbing out of bed.
You put Melissa on speaker as you dig through your dresser to find a pair of sweatpants. You pull them over the shorts you were sleeping in and throw a hoodie over your tank top. By the time Melsisa gives you the bar she is currently holed up at you are in your shoes and heading towards the door with keys in hand.
“Are you really coming?” Melissa asks as she hears your car turn over.
“You said you needed me so I am on my way,” you tell her as you pull out of your driveway. “Do you want to stay on the phone with me while I drive?”
“Please don’t hang up,” Mel says in a rush with so much fear that your stomach twists.
You run a hand through your hair to relieve some of the nerves radiating through you. “I’m not hanging up Mel. I’ll stay with you the whole time.” You pause as you try to remember which road you are supposed to take. “How did you end up down at Johnny’s anyway? That bar isn’t anywhere by your house.”
“Robinson and I got in an argument,” Melissa mumbles. “We been arguing a lot lately and I needed some place to breathe for a little bit. Some place where no one knew who I was.” You can hear her start to cry, a little hitch in her breath before she can control it. “I should have called you. You are the only person I wanted to talk to.”
It takes only a second before the spiral begins. “I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I just call?Why did I come here? Why did I start drinking? What am I doing?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” you interject quickly. “Ain’t no point in beating yourself up about the past. I am on my way to you right now and that is all that matters.”
“But it is so late and you were sleeping and I…”
“Melissa,” you call out to stop her rambling. “I want you to try something okay. Just a little thing to help pass the time. What’s five things you can see right now?”
“I see,” Melissa starts pausing to take in her surroundings, “a neon bar sign, a street lamp, two people smoking on the corner, a red car passing by, and my black boots.”
“Good, now what are four things you can touch?” you encourage her.
The response comes quicker this time. “I can feel the stone that I sit on, the rain that is starting to fall, the necklace that you gave me for my birthday, and the cigarette in my hand.”
You can see it now Melissa sitting on the curb, her curls starting to go limp in the rain, twirling a cigarette in her fingers, with makeup slowly running down her face. It was a masterpiece and a heartbreak all in one breath.
“Alright, what are three things you hear?”
“Rain hitting the cars, shitty bar music, and your voice calming me down,” Melissa says and there is an ease to her words now.
You smile as you continue to close the distance between the two of you. “Two things you smell.”
Melissa chuckles at this. “Nothing good hun’, nothing good.”
You are used to the pet name by now but it still doesn’t stop a small fluttering in your stomach. “Last one, what is something you can taste?”
“Whatever cheap ass whiskey I was pounding back like I'm not old and going to have the worst headache ever in the morning,” Melissa says so casually that you can't help but burst into laughter.
“You know what I see Mel?” You ask not stopping before you continue. “A beautiful red head waiting on the curb for me.”
Melissa’s head pops up and she catches your eye immediately. You parked across the street and lean against your car casually with an easy smile to greet her. Logical sense escapes her as she takes in your messy hair, oversized hoodie, and baggy pants.
“You look beautiful,” she says before she can think better of it.
You laugh as you make your way across the street. You hold out your hand to help Melissa up. “That’s the beer goggles talking Mel. I look like shit.”
She goes to protest but the sudden height change has her head spinning. Melissa didn't realize how drunk she was and the fact pisses her off. She wasn't complimenting you because she was drunk. She was complimenting you because it was what she felt in her heart, what she thought about every time she saw you, what she was always too scared to tell you.
Your hand comes to wrap around her waist to help keep her upright and Melissa feels like your fingers may burn through her clothes.
“Let’s get you home Mel,” you say, helping her walk across the street. “You have everything you need?”
Mel nods and digs in the back pocket of her leather pants to hand you a house key. You take it before helping load her into the passenger seat. There is a lingering moment where you lean over her to buckle the seat belt and grab something from the center console. She takes this moment to get lost in a smell so distinctly you that it could never be replicated.
The moment is over too soon as you pull away and place a water bottle in her hands. “Drink this. Slowly.”
Melissa nods but when her fingers shake too much to open it you do it for her. There is no judgement in the movements, just soft understanding. Melissa has never had someone be so willing to take care of her that she doesn’t know how to react. She just murmurs a soft thank you as you shut the door.
If you catch her studying you while you drive to her house you don't bring it up. You simply navigate through the streets of Philly with practiced ease. You would have thought you had been to Melissa’s house a thousand times with the way you calmly climb into the driveway and park on the opposite side that Melissa’s car would have parked.
In reality you have only been to Melissa’s house three times. Three singular times that you entered her space and made the usual drab space full of light. Dozens of gatherings and people had occupied the same space in between those three times, but Melissa had carved out a special spot for those moments to stay safe. On bad days she pulls them out and reminds herself how to breathe.
“Mel?” You call out breaking her from a trance. “You ready to go in?”
Melissa nods too lost to say much else. You hold her up and she leans heavily against you as you walk up her steps. She doesn't need to tell you the trick to get her lock to unstick you just remember. She had taught you how to do it one night when you came over for game night and her arms had been full of last minute groceries.
You kick your shoes off the door before gently helping Melissa out of hers. She swears that even your lightest touches make her skin burn. She knows this is more than the alcohol pushing these feelings. This is a slow crumbling of the walls she has built around herself to keep her safe. Melissa isn't nervous though, this crumbling feels more like safety than a downfall.
When her shoes are placed in the hall closet you guide her back to her bedroom. You know where to go from a movie night where Sailor Barbara had been a little too into the booze and spilled wine all over your shirt. Melissa had loaned you a spare one which you returned two days later smelling like the laundry beads you used. She slept in it till the smell wore off.
You dig through the drawer Melissa tells you her pajamas are in pulling out an outfit for her. Your gaze turns away when she undresses but she desperately wishes it wouldn't. She wants you to look, to linger on her the same way she lingers on you, but you don't.
“Thank you for coming to get me,” Melissa says when she is finally dressed. “I owe you.”
“You don't owe me anything. You needed me and I came,” you shrug as if the choice was easy, as if you would always choose Melissa anytime she asks.
It gives her just the right amount of push to blurt it all out.
“I like you hun’. Like big grand fairytale dream feelings about you,” she paused trying to gauge your reaction as your eyes widen. “I look for you in a crowded room because you are the only person I want to see. I ask you about anything I can think of to merely hear your voice. I go out of the way to occupy the same place as you because being next to you is the only place I feel sane. I like you…and I really want to fucking kiss you.”
“Melissa,” you mumble but before you can continue she is pressing herself against you.
The kiss startles you but it only takes a moment for you to relax into it. Melissa’s heart is soaring at the feeling of your lips pressed against hers but your heart is shattering. You had dreamed of kissing Melissa for years, but not when she was still actively dating someone, and had only confessed her feelings because she was trashed.
You break the kiss placing your forehead against hers so that you don't have to look in her eyes. “Mel, we should get you in bed to get some sleep.”
“Stay with me,” Melissa begs her nails digging into your hips.”
You should say no. You should establish clear boundaries in the spaces that Melissa can't see, but you are so tired. You are tired of pretending that holding Melissa to fall asleep doesn't sound like a dream come true. So you promise to stay for the night.
Melissa is giddy as she crawls into bed and you slide in next to her. She only gives you a second to adjust before she curls around you. Her arm drapes around your waist pulling you tight against her. Her face comes to nuzzle against your neck and you brace for another kiss that never comes. Instead she lets out a sigh and promptly falls asleep.
You close your eyes willing back the tears you feel coming. She is with Captain Robinson. She is straight. She is your friend. She is drunk. The phrases play on repeat in your head until you finally drift off to sleep.
You’ll keep your promise and stay for tonight. Only tonight.
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