I know I've been writing a lot of Richie lately, but I've just been seeing a lot of things and getting a lot of ideas that remind me of him. :)
The alarm clock next to your bed erupted in the shrill, beeping noise that you had come to hate. Groaning, you reached a hand blindly to your left, slapping your bedside table until you finally hit the alarm, turning it off. Your mood was only slightly lifted by the fact that today was a Friday.
Every Friday, after school, you and your best friend, Richie, would go to the park and hang out to do homework. Then, most of the time you would sleep over at Richie's house, and hang out all of Saturday. You and Richie have been friends since you met in Kindergarten. Richie could be irritable or blunt sometimes, but you thought it was funny. Most of your other friends could not think of a greater duo.
The day dragged on, and by the last period of school, you thought you were going to lose your mind. Finally, geometry was over and you practically booked it to the nearest exit. Right outside, Richie was talking and laughing with his friends Eddie, Bill, and Stan. When the boys saw you, they all smiled, Stan waving you over.
"Hi guys," you greeted, smiling and shifting your backpack on your shoulders. The boys all gave their own hellos, going back to the conversation they were having before.
"Okay guys, (y/n) and I are heading to the park, see you tomorrow," Richie said after a minute, and the boys all waved goodbye, heading in the opposite direction to go home. You and Richie began the short walk to the park, talking about random things.
The day went on as normal, and at six o'clock, you both biked back to Richie's house, preparing for yet another sleepover.
"So, what do you wanna do tonight?" Richie asked, as you both dropped your backpacks at the front door.
"Can we watch some movies? I'm feeling lazy today," you replied, punctuating your sentence with a short yawn. Richie chuckled, nodding at you. About a half hour later, the two of you were snuggled on the couch, your favorite movie playing, a box of pizza resting on the table in front of you.
About half way through the second movie, you began to get tired, and rested your head on Richie's chest, not thinking anything of it. Suddenly, you felt Richie stiffen underneath you, and you lifted your head, facing him.
"Are you okay, Rich?" you asked, eyebrows knit in concern. Richie looked at you, eyes widened and cheeks tinted red, before he turned away.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing," he rushed out quickly, but knew you weren't convinced.
"Seriously, Richie? I've been friends with you for about a decade, you think I can't tell when you're lying?" Richie sighed guiltily, and turned to face you once again.
"You make me feel. You make me feel these things, and I don't know what they are. And I don't like it. I want it to stop. Now," Richie said, blushing a deep red. He looked down, nervously fidgeting his fingers.
"What do you mean?" you asked, wanting to make sure you were completely clear on what Richie was talking about. You kind of had a feeling, though.
"I like you, okay? And, I don't know how to do this whole thing! It's torture having these sleepovers and trying to not let it slip every single week. I just... I really like you," Richie confessed, and you felt your own cheeks flush red.
"Well, Richie, I guess it's good that I like you too. You need to stop worrying about everything so much," you grinned, laughing at Richie's shocked face. A second later, Richie pushed himself forward, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, giddy kiss.
"Come 'ere," Richie mumbled, pulling you to his chest so you could resume your movie.
