ethereal : it oneshots

i will never be sober again

pairing: stozier

a/n: absolute little drabble. UGH I NEED TO BE ABLE TO WRITE FILLER AGAIN I NEED A NEW STORYYYYYYYYY. stan pov :)

i am addicted to richie tozier. i can admit that i'm not the most emphatic in even the best of circumstances, but i can say without a doubt that i am completely, utterly addicted to richie tozier. 

at first, i thought it might be the feeling of richie tozier that i craved so much when he was gone. i thought that maybe it was the feeling of his hand gently scratching my head, or the way i wanted to picture every minuscule detail of our future together. they say that sometimes, people can save you from the future you were doomed to live alone. sometimes i think i wouldn't want to keep going without him.

but it is not the feeling of him. it is him. i'll be honest, inside of his bedroom, when it's just the two of us, in the dark with the lights out, and nobody has ever known us to be anywhere else, i try and memorize the way his face and his arms and his back feel so that if i ever go blind, i will know him by touch.

he is the light that let me understand that being alone is not the same as being alive for the first time in my life. i did not want the freedom i so desperately used to cling to. it was not freedom; being an individual is so different than being isolated.

i want him to spend every day mocking me only to burst out into laughing, glancing at me over the rim of his glasses to make sure i'm laughing with him. i know that this love is unconditional. i know that it has seeped into my blood and will infect my future generations to come.

perhaps i could have lived a life without richie tozier, but i will never know that life now that i have him. i will never not want him the way a addict wants their fix. 

life is frightening. richie tozier is not.

i hope to never forget the way that he laughed after kissing me for the first time. it was still light out, and the sunset hadn't even begun. we had cigarettes in between our fingers, sat on the bed of his truck, betting on whether or not the groundhog would show later that week. he thought spring would come early, maddening optimistic as he was.

i looked over at him as i snorted at something incredibly stupid he'd said. suddenly his hand was on my cheek, and his lips met mine. it felt like meeting someone i hadn't seen in a long time and making up. it tasted like tobacco and his breath smelled like spearmint and smoke, but i thought i might understand the lovers for the first time. 

his hand slid back, into my hair, and he pulled his face away. he laughed, almost shyly, though his teeth shone and i wanted to kiss him again. he apologized. i loved him like breathing in an instant. i forgot the cigarette.

i have not smoked a day since. i was meant to love him.