Acheron had expected Aviv to drive something far more flashy. Something luxurious and expensive, perhaps in some ridiculous bright colour that would make half the campus turn their heads whenever Aviv drove past. Instead, Aviv led him towards a car that was still undeniably expensive, but considerably more understated. It was black, sleek and almost intimidatingly polished, with dark-tinted windows that made it difficult to see inside.
Acheron stared at it for a moment. "This is your car?"
"Disappointed?" Aviv glanced over his shoulder.
"No." Acheron hesitated. "Just... surprised."
Aviv laughed softly.
"I contain multitudes."
Aviv unlocked the car and walked around to Acheron's side. Rather than letting Acheron struggle with the door himself, he opened it from the outside and gestured for him to get in.
"Your chariot, Your Highness."
Acheron rolled his eyes but climbed inside. The moment he settled into the seat, he understood why Aviv had chosen it. The interior looked far more like him; it was both elegant and expensive. Meticulously designed.
Black leather seats were lined with deep red stitching that continued across the doors and dashboard. Nothing about it looked standard. Even the smallest details appeared deliberately chosen, giving the entire interior the unmistakable feeling that someone had designed it specifically for Aviv.
Acheron ran his fingertips lightly over the stitching.
"This is very you."
"Thank you for the compliment." Aviv smiled as he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. Once they were both inside, the doors shut with a soft, heavy thud, muting the outside world.
Aviv started the engine and pulled away from the university. After a few minutes, he glanced towards Acheron.
"I just called. There's a space available for us to join."
"Thank you, Viv." He rubbed his hands together nervously in his lap.
"The craving..." His voice faltered. "It just got really hard to ignore."
"Achie, there are going to be days like this." Aviv's expression softened; he kept his eyes on the road.
"Sometimes something bad happens. Sometimes something good happens. Sometimes nothing happens at all, and your brain simply decides today is going to be difficult."
Acheron gave a small, humourless laugh.
Aviv continued. "But when the need gets too strong, when the craving becomes too difficult to handle on your own..."
The car stopped at a red light; Aviv turned towards him. He reached across the centre console and gently took one of Acheron's hands, whose fingers were still cold. Aviv rubbed his thumb slowly over the soft skin between his fingers.
"...asking for help is the right thing to do." Aviv squeezed Acheron's hand. "Going to a meeting was the best choice you could have made."
Acheron's eyes dropped to their joined hands.
"Recovery isn't about making the easy choice every time."
Aviv smiled gently.
"Sometimes it's about making the hard choice." He leaned across the console and pulled Acheron into a quick hug.
"You did good." Aviv's voice was soft; his eyes shone brightly when he pulled away.
Acheron immediately grew shy, turning his face towards the window, hiding it from Aviv. Fortunately, the light changed. Aviv chuckled under his breath and returned his attention to the road.
Acheron stared out the window. He wasn't sure what to do with the compliment. He had indeed asked to go to a meeting but...
Acheron's fingers curled against his palm.
Only after he had mentally run through almost every contact in his phone, wondering who he could call, who might have something and could get what he needed quickly.
The thought made his stomach twist.
It truly had been agonising to force himself away from that familiar path. To shut down the part of his mind already searching for an escape.
He had thought he was past this. That he was stronger now; he had survived so much and achieved just as much. He got into his first-choice university, made better friends and even started making significant progress with the art as of late.
He had even begun thinking about the future.
So why could one afternoon still reduce him to this?
Why could one name still make the craving claw its way back?
Acheron lowered his head.
Was he still too weak?
The question sat heavily inside him. He couldn't lift his head, couldn't tell Aviv the truth. Aviv thought he had made a brave choice, but Acheron knew what had happened inside his own head.
He hadn't chosen the meeting because he was strong.
He had chosen it because... he was just scared.
Scared of what he might do, of how quickly the old thoughts had returned. Scared that maybe he hadn't changed as much as he thought.
His throat tightened.
Acheron pressed his forehead lightly against the cool window.
"Even now, there are times when the craving gets too much for me to bear," Aviv said.
Acheron looked up sharply. "You still get cravings?"
"Don't look so surprised." Aviv glanced at him, one eyebrow raised; a chuckle escaped him. "I'm a recovering addict, Achie. Cravings don't simply disappear because we've been sober for a while."
Acheron's expression softened.
"They don't?"
"No." Aviv shook his head. "Sometimes they're barely there. Just a passing thought that comes and goes. Other times..."
He paused, his fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel.
"Other times, they're far more aggressive."
Acheron remained silent, and Aviv continued driving, his eyes fixed on the road.
"Our brains remember what the drugs gave us. The escape, the numbness or whatever it was we were looking for when we first started using." His voice was calm, almost matter-of-fact.
"That memory doesn't magically disappear. But the longer we stay sober, the more practice we get at making a different choice."
Acheron looked down at his hands.
"A different choice."
"Exactly." Aviv glanced towards him again, noticing some of the colour had returned to Acheron's face. His shoulders weren't quite as tense as they had been when they left the university.
"As long as I remember what drugs took from me, I have something to hold onto when the craving gets bad." Aviv gave a small shrug. "I remember the people I hurt. The things I lost. The person I became."
Aviv's expression turned thoughtful. "I have to remember the times I woke up and realised I had done something I couldn't take back."
Acheron listened quietly.
"So when the craving gets agonising, I remind myself that I already know where that road leads." Aviv smiled faintly.
"That doesn't mean I'm always fearless. It just means I know what choice I want to make."
Acheron turned towards the passenger window. The city moved past in a blur of buildings, cars and pedestrians. The afternoon light reflected off the glass, occasionally casting warm patches across his face.
He watched without really seeing any of it.
"Thank you, Viv."
"You don't need to thank me. You're more than just my sponsee." Aviv's expression softened into a gentle smile.
For a moment, Acheron didn't know what to say. His lips parted slightly before closing again; a faint blush crept across his cheeks. Acheron turned back towards the window, hiding his face.
Outside, the city continued moving around them.