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At first it was like an itch, just a little itch in the back of her mind, but Amelia was all to familiar with the feeling. It always intensified when she was stressed, overworked, or burnt out. Sometimes it grew for no apparent reason at all. But no matter what, the itch was always there and it was never going away.
Despite how much she worked on herself, and no matter the high opinions her peers, colleagues, and friends held, she would would always see herself as the junkie who was craving just one more hit, pill, or line. Most of the time she could get over herself, pour her focus and attention away from those thoughts and that itch but as she sat here, staring at the number of one of her old dealers on the bathroom wall, she felt like she had to scratch that incessant itch stronger than ever.
She knew how easy it could be to get pretty much whatever she wanted. One text and maybe half an hour of patiences could send years of hard work spiralling down the sink. It would be so easy, too easy. Amelia turned and grabbed the sink which hadn't been cleaned in what looked like weeks. She focused on her breathing, trying to distract herself but even she knew it was for naught. All of her thoughts were on that phone number, so much so she did not heard the creak of the door opening and (Y/N) walking in.
She approached as calmly as she could. It was clear that Amelia wasn't doing so good but (Y/N) was nevern the best in emotional situations; surgeons don't need good bedside manner.
"You good?" (Y/N) said, instantly wincing at her words. It was very clear that Amelia was not doing very good at all.
It did bring out a sarcastic chuckle though as she loosened her grip on the sink and lifted her head to make eye contact through the mirror. “I thought that I was getting better.”
"At what?"
"At this." Amelia gestured to herself. "At life, at coping, at not wasting every second on drugs or booze, or whatever substance i could find. But one look at my dealer's number and I'm practically drooling like a dog."
"Did you call?"
"What?" Amelia said, watching as (Y/N) pointed to the number on the stall wall. "No, but I wanted to. God do I still want to."
"Progress isn't linear. Sometimes you have ups, sometimes downs but it is progress nonetheless. Before, you would've called that number with no hesitation, but you didn't. That's progress and it is something to be proud of."
"But I wanted too."
"Then that's something to work towards, but that ain't going to happen here. Let's get out of here and you can continue your self lathing where temptation isnt near."
Amelia, still looking at (Y/N) in the mirror, raised her eyebrow as if to say Really? You're making a joke now? but she followed nonetheless. Even with (Y/N)'s poorly timed jokes, anywhere with her was better than here.