BLEACHED ✧ REDDIE

| THREE - 三つ

— 三つ !

☆ ☆ ☆

— BEVERLY MARSH IS A FIRM FIGURE TO STAND BY AND HAD BEEN KNOWN AS RICHIE'S ROCK FOR THE BETTER PART OF ALMOST FIVE YEARS!

she hadn't always been there for richie, but what she lacked, she made up for with just the love she emitted from every pore on her freckle-spotted skin. her careful fingers were the ones that pieced him back together when the same hands that bled for him were the ones that finally made him bleed. gentle hands replaced harsh ones that carried too many scars to be known as flesh. in the end, richie had always been accustomed to having one friend at a time, and little thirteen year old richie knew no different. the summer of '89 changed everything.

in his lifetime, richie tozier has only met two angels; the fiery redhead that is beverly marsh, and eddie kaspbrak. both had wings of ivory behind them and halos made of glittery gold above their delicate heads. richie had never been the religious type. never gone to church before, hell, he's never even read a single verse from the bible. but his best friend and newfound interest could rival his borderline atheism. he may not be sure on too many things in this world but that, he is sure of.

it is a tuesday afternoon, a solid week since eddie had stumbled into richie's world and sowed seeds that were steadily rooting themselves within the older's chest cavity. grey smoke lazily intertwined with the halo above bev's sunset hair, a halo that was only visible to richie. the overwhelming smell of marijuana lingered in between them, their packs of cigarettes untouched within their pockets. richie showed up mere moments before beverly, a dopey grin and a sandwich bag tucked on the inside of his worn leather jacket.

"i've got the skunky goods, madame marsh," he welcomed her with one of his voices, dangling the baggie between his thumb and index finger. she just laughed and tossed her old messenger bag between the rocks, reaching out to help pick through the bud.

thirty minutes later, the dynamic duo were laying on their backs, lazy and resting uncomfortably against familiar rocks whilst staring at the sky. the silver skies were clouded over once again, the autumn sun peeking from behind ashen curtains causing richie to squint up at them. everything in derry was always so bleak, so mediocre. he prays to the sun goddess he makes it out of this town someday.

"so," beverly allows smoke to flow from her coral coloured lips, passing the joint to richie. "what's the occasion, tozier?"

he takes a hit from the joint, mouth already beginning to fill up with the foul taste of weed. there's a beat of silence, an exhale of smoke comes from richie's chapped lipped mouth, puffing up into the sky like a chimney in winter. he huffs out a laugh before taking another slow drag, "who says it's an occasion? can't a guy smoke a couple doobies with his best gal pal without it being scrutinized?"

beverly scrunches up her nose at the way he says scrutinized, like it offends her. she reaches over to pluck the joint from his fingers, aiming to finish the rest off herself. she raises a light sculpted brow, "such big words from such a small brained fellow, rich," she jokes. "but seriously, what gives?"

"i'll show you small, marsh!" is what he wants to say. instead, he lets out a sigh and contemplates reaching for a cigarette, watching with red-rimmed eyes as the redhead finishes the joint, flicking the end somewhere in the distance. his fingers drum impatiently by his side, another habit that he couldn't seem to quit. there are a few minutes of silence, and richie almost doesn't speak, words caught up and dissolving on his tastebuds.