Do Not Fucking Touch Me // Reddie

Forty Three

(Richie's POV)

It was spring now. Everything was blooming, the flowers, the trees, the grass. The snow had all melted away and Derry lived to see another sunny day. Baby birds chirped outside my window and the sun peeked through, lighting up the floor. I rolled over and nudged Eddie, laying peacefully beside me. 

"Mm," he mumbled, eyes still pressed shut. 

I pulled the pillow out from under my head and smacked Eds across the face with it. 

"Five more minutes," he begged. 

I propped myself up with my arm and stared at him. I hated to do this, but he needed a wake up call. I sat above him with my hand stretched out, ready to slap him. I swung, but couldn't go all the way through. I couldn't hurt him, even if it was a light slap, even if it meant he would wake up. I sighed. I needed a different approach. He just looked so beautiful and sleepy. I wanted to spend all day in bed with him, watching Ghostbusters on the TV, but we couldn't. Today was the day.

I kissed his cheek over and over until his eyes fluttered open. "Don't make me leave," he begged. I didn't want him to. I wanted to take him with me. Why couldn't I? He should be going the same place I was. 

"I have to go, you know that," I reminded him. It wasn't my choice to leave town, to have to move all the way to New York. My parents were making me, after I finally told them what was going on. After throwing up blood, I was very concerned about my wellbeing. I was killing myself slowly. My body had eaten away at all the fat until there was nothing left, and then it would eat at my muscles, the heart being one of them. It was a heartbreaking choice, ironic enough. 

It was a choice between the person who owned my heart and my own life. I wanted to choose Eddie. I would rather live a short happy life with him than a long life without him. My parents didn't know how to take it. They didn't see it the same way. I was already gay and that was hard enough on them. A lot of people in this town were fairly closed minded. They didn't like Eddie and I together. Even though we had come to terms that people disliked our relationship, neither of us cared anymore. My parents weren't the same. They grew up with the same views that the hating townspeople did. They were okay that I was happy, but if it was a choice between my life and Eddie and I's relationship, they would choose me. And that's exactly what they did.

Upon hearing I was bulimic, they went into a frenzy. My mom downed pills behind closed doors hoping God would forgive her for creating such a fucked up child. My dad spent all his time and money at the local dive bar, hooking up with random girls at motels at night. Neither of them knew each other's dark secrets, nor did they know I knew about them. Their marriage was slowly falling apart, and I needed to appease them. Maybe in my absence, they could heal themselves, the same time I would be healing. 

I tried to tell myself that Eddie would be okay without me. It took everything in me to try and convince myself that. I knew it wasn't true. He was going to be in pain. I didn't want that. I most definitely didn't want what happened this winter to happen again. He needed to know he could live without me. If I stayed, I would certainly die. I think he knew that, too. He didn't want to think about it. Avoiding our problems was killing us both, while we claimed it kept us alive. 

"It's only three months, Eds. I'll be back in June."

He opened his eyes completely and frowned at me. He tried to stay strong for me. I knew he was trying. I would give him credit for that at least.

"Just in time for our one year," he said with a melancholy tone. He was being sarcastic. In his opinion, it will only have been seven months, because I will have been gone for three of them.