𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧? | 𝐫

There was a muted knock through the thick door. Richie and Eddie turned to it, looked back to each other, then back towards the door. Richie rose from the floor, stretching to ease the discomfort from their sitting position on the floor. He unlocked it, seeing Mike standing in front of it, his hand still on the handle.

"Uh, we had to talk about-" Richie started, being cut off by Mike.

"We're outside if you wanna come." He said, stopping once he realized he'd interrupted him. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Richie shrugged, brushing it off. "Yeah, we'll be right out."

Mike nodded and shut the door back.

"We should probably-"

"Let's go outside, I guess." Eddie said, leaving Richie interrupted again.

They walked out of the closet, turning off the flickering light, and forcefully shutting the door. The air in the living room was much chillier, and they had to readjust to the lighting change and the texture of the carpet.

The two stepped outside - everyone's skin had a honey glow from the sun beginning to set, showing time had passed. Everyone was fine. Laughing, making jokes, hanging out, just like how it used to be.

The feeling of Derry is hard to encapsulate - it was, in a sense, overwhelming. The intense chills that would rush over you at night, and looking up into the sky and seeing the moon, in all its mercury colored glory, the stars shining ever so slightly in the clear sky. The air had a specific smell - a permanent post-rain type of smell, the type that lures you in and makes you become one with the atmosphere. You are forced into becoming a part of the universe, and you are stripped of any personhood you once possessed. You're no longer human, no longer your own being, but the sum of the environment around you. The Derry experience is unique, in that it will always be bittersweet. Everything good is tainted, but just a bit. Everything bad has a tinge of goodness in it.

God, Richie hated it. Passionately.

Being in the town gave him chills, and made his stomach endlessly toss and turn. If there was love that existed in the world, Derry was the exact antithesis.

Richie glanced over to Eddie to see how he was feeling, but he'd already vanished from beside him, and went over to talk to Ben and Bill, which was strange, considering Eddie hadn't seemed so eager to chat with them when they first got there.

Richie let out a breath, and sat on the edge of a bench next to him. He was alone, again.

He didn't hate being alone, but he hated the idea of it - feeling everyone's eyes examine him, wondering why he couldn't just talk to someone like everyone else was doing. He hated being seen as alienated & isolated - to him, it was synonymous with weakness. It was the feeling of being picked last in dodgeball, or being at a party while everyone is hammered, and you're barely even tipsy. It felt like-

"What's up?" Bev said, sitting next to Richie on the bench. He jumped a little, not expecting someone to join him. He turned his neck to look at her, and she smelt of cheap liquor and cherries. Jesus christ, the smell was suffocating.

"Not much," He replied, wincing at the aroma. "Are you-"
"Don't tell me you don't drink." She said sarcastically, with the smile she always did when she was trying to get under someone's skin.

"No, uh - I'm sober. Er, well I don't drink." He said, stammering.

She squinted her eyes with a smirk. "Which one is it, Tozier? Are you sober, or do you not drink?" She pressed on, laughing with the statement.

"I didn't know there was a difference," He lied, smiling a little. His eyes shifted to Eddie, who was standing a couple of feet behind her.

"He's fine." She said, rolling her eyes playfully. She and Richie met each other's eyes. "Trust me." She said, changing her voice into one that should have been reassuring, but instead, it made him anxious.

"What do you mea-"

"Come on, Rich." Beverly said.

Fine, just keep interrupting me then.

"What?" Richie said, nervously smiling, and furrowing his eyebrow again. She had a smirk on her face, and continued staring at him.

"What?" He repeated, sounding more frustrated than confused this time.

"I know how you feel about Eddie."

Richie's face dropped a bit, and he felt a pit in his stomach.

"I've literally known since before you guys left. I'm pretty proud of myself, honestly." She said, half jokingly. "Oh, also Mike knows, oddly enough."

God.

"And you might not want to tell Eddie that we know." She said, looking over to him. "I don't know how he gets when he's drunk - I mean, I'm guessing he gets either extremely clingy or just existential. Both really aren't fun to be around." She recoiled a bit, smiling reluctantly.

Richie felt his nerves spike.

"Wait, what?" He asked, concern rushing over his face.

"Alright, come on Richie. You're starting to sound like a broken record."

He ignored her, asking his question. "He's drunk?"

"Oh my god, are you serious? He's been drinking the entire night." She laughed innocently, looking back over to him. "That's gonna be a hell of a hangover."

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Richie stared into space, trying to process what had just been told to him. He wondered if everything Eddie said, all the stuff about wanting to be with him, not giving up on the two of them, all of it had all just been bullshit.

Jesus christ, they'd literally 'been intimate' and the whole time, Eddie was drunk.

"I have to go, thanks." Richie said, feeling his face get hot, and standing up. He walked into the house quickly, and shut the door.