how we were ✰ 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 ¹

two

"to love beauty is to see light."
  — victor hugo

if richie closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could almost remember how it felt to have his mother's fingers run through his hair. her hands were kind—gentle—something richie had not experienced in a long time. beverly wasn't gentle with him. henry wasn't soft and kind. maggie tozier was everything, she was perfection.

beverly marsh laid next to richie on his creaky bed, a marlboro cigarette delicately balanced between her pointer and middle fingers. she brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling silently and letting it fall back to her side. her fiery hair was splayed across his shoulder, her cheek lightly resting against the rigid surface of his collarbone. richie didn't know how she laid like that, he couldn't have been even remotely comfortable. he considered asking bev to run her fingers through his hair. he didn't.

beverly glanced up at him through her dark lashes, the splash of freckles spread across her cheeks glinting in the moonlight. she offered him her cigarette, but he shook his head even though his body burned for a quick drag. "sorry bev," he hummed, bringing up his free arm to elevate his head, "i don't smoke that shit." she scoffed, shrugging one shoulder and inhaling another puff of nicotine. "your loss," she rolled her eyes, shifting over onto her elbows to look up at him, "that's the last time i share with you."

richie's heart clenched. he knew she wasn't serious—knew she was only teasing, but it still hurt hearing her say something with such finality. his throat constricted but he coughed to clear it.

one, two, three..

"whatever you say, marsh." he choked, but if beverly noticed, she didn't say anything. instead, she eyed him, inhaling another swift drag and bringing her face up closer to his.

their lips brushed against one another's and richie's heart sped up. he loved beverly marsh. he loved the way her wild hair smelled of cigarettes and shampoo. he loved the way her clothes were rumpled and torn, just like his. he loved the way she laughed, putting everything forward and hiding nothing. his heart beat for her, but he was okay with that. next to henry, beverly was his best friend, one of his only friends.

beverly tapped richie's wrist with her pinkie and he parted his lips, allowing the cool taste of smoke to fill his mouth as he breathed her in. she was ethereal. bev pulled away and locked their eyes together, a small smirk spread across her lips. she exhaled, a small thread of smoke falling from her parted lips. richie kept their eyes locked, his tongue escaping to wet his lips as their shared smoke tumbled from his mouth. "you're something, beverly marsh." she just smiled at him.

beverly stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of her clothes and walking over to the open window with her hands on her hips. the moonlight was peeking through onto the floor and she turned to him. she bent down, pulling on her tattered shoes, not bothering to tie the laces. "well, c'mon rich," she threw one leg over the windowsill, long locks falling over her shoulder as she smirked mischievously, "let's go on an adventure."

richie didn't hesitate to follow her. his father worked nights, mostly, richie would be at school before the man ever came home. considering he never took his converse off, the worn shoes musing the bed as he stood up. the pair slipped through the window and scaled slowly down the roof. in all honesty, the friends could have escaped through the front door, but his father find out. wentworth tozier was perceptive, diligent with details, and that was the problem. he cared too much and too little all at once, especially were richie was concerned.

they hit the dampened grass below richie's window, as it had rained several hours before. the wounds across his palms had since settled down within the week, but they still ached when he caught himself on the ground. however, richie didn't let out more than a wince before he was following behind beverly marsh like a lost puppy. she probably thought him pathetic, she had other friends, why hang out with him? she knew of his friendship with henry, the bully of her own friends, but she never said anything, why?