𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 | ͏reddie

prologue

Ahhh I'm excited for you to read it heheehe🤧

Derry is warm. Clouds part ways to allow the crimson sun to ignite the sky. Reds, yellows and purples decorate the evening atmosphere, content sigh falling from a dark haired teen at the sight.

His legs dangle over the edge of the cliff, thick grey smoke finding its way from his chapped lips and into the air surrounding. Warmer than usual, the thought passes his mind before sucking in another drag of the deathly cigarette.

Thick black curls fall by the boys eyes, which are shielded by a pair of dark framed glasses. "Can barely fucking see", he'd say with a laugh every time they'd get broken from another unfortunate brawl. He didn't mind though, contacts were always stored in his room somewhere.

"Knew you'd be here." A soft voice fills the silence. The tall boy turns his head with a large smile, looking up at the visitor with his teeth on show.

"Guess you know me well then, Beaverly?" He teases. The auburn haired girl releases a small laugh and takes a place beside the boy, legs now dangling in sync with his.

"What're you doing? Stop contemplating life so much." She tuts, freckles glowing in the golden sunset. Her hand launches for the packet of cigarettes resting on Richie's lap, to which he's too late to stop her from taking one and lighting it within a few seconds.

"You owe me one now, Marsh." He points a warning finger and twists the end of his own one in the dirt to put it out. "And who said I was contemplating life in the first place?"

"Well, the fact you're sitting by yourself at sunset having a lonesome smoke kinda proves it." Beverly smiles teasingly, smoke leaving her mouth with a chuckle. Richie smirks and adjusts his glasses, looking down at the grass beneath them with a small sigh. The curly haired girl lets her brows form a small frown, shooting her best friend a concerned look. "Tozier, what's up with you? Seriously, you haven't made a mum joke all day, or made fun of yourself, or—"

"Do you think anyone looks past my stupid face?" Richie blurts before she can finish, gazing up at her with huge dark eyes. She searches his face for any chance he could be joking, but soon let's put a small sigh once she finds nothing.

"You talk a bunch of shit, you know that right?" She moves her hand to rest on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He frowns slightly at her remark, knowing there must be a second part to her comment. "You're awesome, Rich. I'm sure whoever looks at you can see that." She pauses and turns to him quickly. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing! Jheeze, Bev. I was only asking!" He brushes it off with a laugh again, feeling his heart pounding is his chest. He can't keep anything from Beverly, she can read him like a book. It's easier just to tell the girl everything that's wrong. "I'm just... confused." His voice lowers.

"About what?" She asks. "We already know you're bi."

"Not that, asshole." He rolls his eyes, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them slightly. "Just, when do you think I'll find someone?"

Beverly lets out a grunt before chuckling and resting her head on the tall boy's shoulder. "Fucking soon! I mean, look at you!" She perks up and obnoxiously gestures at his face.

"Oh fuck off." Richie shakes his head at his best friend, but she doesn't get the hint.

"You have the sharpest jawline I have ever fucking—"

"Marsh," He sighs. She quickly stops talking and searches the emptiness in the teen's eyes. The sparkle is fading away, and she hates to see her best friend look so... sad.

"Richie," She takes his face into her warm hands, running her thumbs over the tops of his cheeks with a sigh of content. The boy was a dork, but definitely gorgeous. Dark eyes, high cheekbones, a jawline that could literally cut, freckles painted across his face, and a smile that could make anyone perk up. "You'll find that person when the time is right." She whispers softly.

Richie feels chills run down his spine and he leans into the familiar touch of Miss Marsh. "Then what?" He mumbles. "I'll freak out and lose them like everyone else I love?"

Beverly shakes her head, adamant that she won't let him fall into that dark place in his mind again. "No, no you won't. You'll go get 'em." She smiles in attempt to cheer him up.

Somehow, miraculously, Richie lets out a small chuckle and lifts his eyes up to the girls emerald ones, the sky's beautiful reflection glistening inside them like a mirror. "Okay." He smirks deviously. "I'll go and fucking get 'em."

"That's what I like to hear!" Beverly lets out a squeal and throws her arm around the boy's shoulder, the air filling with their obnoxious laughter all of a sudden.

The words repeat in Richie's mind. And soon they become imprinted into his brain.

"You'll go and get 'em"

So now, six months later, Richie Tozier doesn't think twice about the maybe side of things and thinks more about the doing.

Maybe he took the advice a bit too literally. Now every time someone catches his eye, he heads for them like a bull at a red cloth.

It never works out though.

People listen out, and start to think he's desperate. Love, affection, sex; that's all he wants they assume. When really, the Trashmouth is simply trying to find what he's been looking for his whole life. The one.

He believes that they're out there. Hell, he feels it in his bones. All he needs now is for them to make an appearance, so he can stop looking like a desperate hookup.

But when they'll finally show up, nobody knows.

But one thing the teen does know, is that he wishes they'd hurry the fuck up.