eddie
two weeks had passed since that night.
i still hadn't seen any of the losers, but they knew that i missed them, and that i would see them soon.
i missed richie too, but it was bearable.
because sometimes at night, i would hear a faint tapping on my window, and two brown eyes would be waiting for me right outside it. a pair of full lips would meet mine in a short but loving kiss, and healing hands would tenderly stroke sunken cheeks as heart held secrets are whispered in a kind of silence that only the moon can hear.
life was calm.
nothing was okay, not even close,
but it was calm.
i still wasn't allowed to leave the house, or go to school. and my mom still checked my wrists every night at 7pm.
she never checked anywhere else.
i continued to blanket my lungs in thick smoke, and litter my palms in small unblossomed roses. but that was nothing new. somehow the mere knowledge that richie feels something for me makes everything seem lighter. the thought of us daydreaming about each other simultaneously, smiles on our faces and hands on our hearts. it helped me through lonely nights and battles with myself. it helped me swallow small bites of hope and keep it down long enough to believe it.
it was all i had left.
he, is all i have left.
richie
"what are these, eddie?"
i asked softly, my eyes flickering from one small, crimson petal, to another. i inhaled slowly as i stared at the rounded scabs on his left palm, holding the trembling hand carefully in my own.
"they're nothing, rich. leave it."
he sighed in a melancholic manner, picking at a stray thread on his pyjama pants. i closed my eyes and tried to breathe steadily, attempting to stay calm. i'd learnt in the past that freaking out did as much good for eddie as it did for me, and that it would only make things more stressful and complicated.
"are they burns?"
he shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to meet my eyes.
"what did you use ed's? please tell me, i just want to know."
he remained silent for a few moments before joining me and looking at his hand. the wounds were violent shades of red and seemed to grow and multiply each time i blinked.
"they're cigarette burns."
he mumbled uncomfortably. i inhaled sharply at the information, barely tracing my thumb over one that nested in the left centre of his palm. i could only imagine how painful it must have been. my fingertips began to itch at the mere thought of it; the blistering end of a lit cigarette pressed upon sensitive and undamaged skin.
"why?"
i choked quietly, trying to keep it together as best as i could. i knew what eddie's answer would be, it was always the same. but still, it never stopped me from asking the same thing every time i found a new mark somewhere else on eddie's scarred and beaten body.
why?
"i don't know."
he muttered brokenly, his big brown, puppy dog eyes, glistening with unshed tears.
"how can you not know eddie?"
i pleaded, tears falling freely down my cheeks.
"how can you just, not know? there must be a reason, anything. why? why do you do this to yourself? why?"
