the smile, the stupid sarcastic remarks, the mom jokes, the finger guns, the big glasses, everything about him makes sense and makes him actually perfect. if there's one person that comes the closest to perfection, it's got to be richie tozier.
it's saturday night, eddie is laying in bed, listening to R.E.M. and he feels like if richie were here, he'd kiss him. he definitely would kiss him.
eddie often thinks about planting his lips on the trashmouth's chapped ones. about how it would feel.
like flowers growing on his lips, like fire crackling, like butterflies?
he knows that everytime richie touches him, he feels like fire is crackling under his skin, when the boy looks at him, he feels flower grow in his chest, and when eddie thinks about richie, it feels like a thousand butterflies are trapped inside his stomach.
eddie got up from his bed, and went over to his desk. he searched through a few drawers, that were all very neatly arranged, and finally found what he was looking for. his journal.
eddie's never told anyone about this, but he loves writing poems. writing about the sky, his sexuality, richie. yeah, forget the stupid sky, all of his poems were shameless love poems, talking about big glasses, chapped lips and freckles spread over cheeks like stars.
as eddie put on another tape, queen, he started to write another poem, this time about how he wishes he and richie could be together.
it's safe to conclude he is absolutely in love with richie tozier. little did he know that richie felt the exact same way.
the boy was also laying in his bed, listening to 'this charming man' by the smiths.
thinking about the kasprak boy, and realising that everything the tiny boy does endears him. the way he looks at stan with big eyes whenever he tells them something cool, the fact that there's a little dimple in his left cheek when he smiles and the way he holds a pencil and also the fact that h-
'RICHARD! THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE DOOR FOR YOU DEAR!'
shit, he totally forgot about bev. richie quikly stuffs the walkman under his pillow, and takes a look around in his room. band posters cover the walls, and there are books and vinyls spread across the room. his bed is unmade, and there's a chair full of jackets and flannels next to his closet. richie switched his usual floral button ups for flannels a long time ago, and the orange shorts for jeans and the vans slip ons for high top chuck taylors. but inside, he's just as loud and immature as usual.
'RICHIE!'
'YES MOM IM COMING'
'here you go dear, i made you and beverly a little snack-packet!'
'thanks mom, i gotta go love you!'
he sees beverly standing there in the doorframe, and his heart still skips a beat whenever he sees her.
'come on, momma's boy!'
'yea yea yea! bully me all you want, i just took the pnj sandwich!'
'aw c'mon tozier! give me a piece!'
bev pulls her puppy dog eyes, so richie can't help but give her a piece of the sandwich.
hiya guys! i hope ur enjoying the story so far! hugs, marie
