"I've realized that..." he started, then took a shaky breath. "Earlier today, when Stanley pulled you aside... seeing you two so close and secretive, I hated it." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I don't like how others make you smile..." He traile...
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°•°Vanessa's POV°•°
We found the Chinese restaurant Mike had told us about after we'd settled into the inn. The moment we walked in, Eddie immediately flagged down the hostess, launching into his well-rehearsed list of dietary landmines as she led us to our table.
"I'm allergic to soy, anything that has egg in it, uh, gluten, and if I eat a cashew, I could realistically die," he explained, his tone clinical.
His voice trailed off, his attention snagged by two men standing near the entrance. They were strangers, and yet... profoundly familiar. A jolt of recognition, twenty-seven years old, passed between us.
"Holy shit," Eddie muttered, his eyes wide.
"Eddie. Vanessa." Mike Hanlon broke into a wide smile, stepping forward. "I'm so glad you could make it." He pulled us both into a firm hug.
"Yeah, not like I had a say," Eddie joked, his voice a little shaky. "If she says so, we do it."
I nudged him playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about. You have more freedom than most men. It's your mom who still has you on the leash."
Bill Denbrough, now a man but with the same kind eyes, laughed along with Mike. Eddie shot me a mock glare.
A loud GONG reverberated through the restaurant, making us all turn. Three more figures stood there, silhouetted against the light. The Losers' Club was reassembling.
"This meeting of the Loser's Club has officially begun," declared the man with glasses. It could only be Richie Tozier. His voice was deeper, but the cadence was exactly the same.
"Look at these guys," Eddie said, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face.
The beautiful redhead was unmistakably Beverly. And the third man, who had shed every ounce of his childhood weight and then some, was... Ben Hanscom. Richie immediately made an exaggerated, wide circle with his arms, mouthing 'BEN' and pointing, then instantly pretended to be fascinated by a wall sconce when Ben turned to look.
As we settled around a large round table, the years began to melt away. Food and drinks piled high as we fell into the easy, chaotic rhythm of our friendship, the laughter coming a little too easily, the drinks poured a little too freely.
"So, wait, Eddie," Richie began, his eyes glinting with familiar mischief. "You got married?"
"Yeah," Eddie said, narrowing his eyes. "Why's that so fucking funny, dickhead?"
