how we were ✰ 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 ¹

one

"a poet is a nightingale, who sits in the darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds."
— percy bysshe shelley

"get back here!"

the year was 1989, henry bowers and richie tozier were running through the darkened streets of derry, hearts pounding erratically and breaths leaving their lips in short, hot pants. richie's lungs ached, but he pushed himself faster to keep up with henry's long strides. the bowers boy had richie's hand grasped firmly in his own, fingers locked together as he pulled him down the abandoned small-town streets and away from the blaring siren of the police officers currently in pursuit of the pair.

one, two, three..

henry's head kept glancing side to side, looking for somewhere to hide while richie eyed the officers that were gaining on them from behind. "hen.." his voice was quiet, but he knew henry heard him. henry always listened to him. "i know, rich." he was out of breath, but he still managed to pull the younger boy into a shadowed alleyway.

four, five, six..

richie was sweating, breath heaving but he bit his lip until he drew blood to keep in the hollowed gasps leaving his lips. henry had him cornered up against the cold brick wall behind his back, so close he could smell the cigarette smell that clung to him. the sirens blared closer and the pounding of richie's erratic heartbeat kicked into overdrive. he laid his head on henry's chest, ear down so he could listen to the soothing drum in his ribs and pretend that they weren't there. henry huffed in surprise, but didn't move the boy's head, looking down at him as if he'd strung the stars. richie knew henry wouldn't let him do this in front of his other friends, henry wasn't henry with them.

seven, eight, nine..

slowly, the echo of the police siren began to fade away. richie hadn't even noticed the cruiser had passed where the pair was hidden in the shadows of the alleyway. he didn't move his head until the echoes became whispers and the whispers became silence. henry did not move a muscle the entire time.

ten.

richie slowly lifted his head and ignored the crick that had taken up residence in his neck. henry's eyes immediately fell to his lips and his eyebrows drew together in concern. he brought his fingers down to brush across richie's lips, but his touch wasn't gentle and it made richie wince. "we're okay." henry's voice was gruff, but his touch against richie's skin made him feel as if he wasn't quite so alone.

"we are not doing that again. no way, you crazy fuck." henry has dragged richie to the train tracks, covered in weeds and broken bottles, all for the simple american pleasure of tarnishing the sides of train cars. honestly, richie wasn't very interested in much more illegal activity other than snatching cigarettes from the gas station. even then, he switched that duty off every week with beverly anyway.

henry let out a small huff of laughter, pushing richie back off of him a few feet away. "i didn't see you complaining when you were scaling down the side of your house, tozier." richie tensed. of course he didn't complain, anywhere away from that house was better than being in it. henry must have noticed, because his eyes softened and his lips parted to say something but; no, no, no. richie didn't want his pity, not his, not henry's.

"henry," he licked his lips, tasting the bitter taste of iron, "what about..?" he didn't need to say anything else. they probably work with them. my dad will find out. he'll kill me. your's will kill you. i'm scared, hen. the silence wrapped around the boys, eyes locked on one another and for a moment richie felt his heart skip a beat. yet, henry broke the contact, furrowing his brows and shoving his hands in his pockets.