𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐞 & 𝐫

E

    Eddie's eyes opened slowly to see the light from the overhead windows elegantly shining down upon his tired eyes, which's vision had been blurred due to his eyes being closed for what seemed to be so long. He squinted as a reaction to the sun, emitting it's divine yet almost unbearably vivid rays of light, illuminating the room more than an unnatural light source would. The warmth was comforting to him from his usually cold temperament.

    He looked up to notice his head had been lying on Richie's lap, his legs on the couch facing sideways. As for Richie, who looked almost half asleep himself, he was reading one of the books that had been on the wooden table aside the arm of the couch. Eddie couldn't exactly tell if Richie was truly reading it, because he seemed to be staring at the same line for as long as Eddie had noticed he was reading. Eddie took a deep breath (well, as deep as his asthmatic lungs could take) and saw Richie slightly jump after looking back down at him. He saw the boy give a slight smile of relief, seeming to have forgotten that Eddie was even lying there. Eddie brushed off Richie's clear state of being startled when he remembered he was lying there as to not further embarrass him.

    "How long have I been asleep?" Eddie curiously asked, not remembering much of how he fell asleep or what he had been doing before the matter. "Uh," Richie said, turning a bit to look at the old clock that was hanging above the tv mantle next to a candelabrum with unlit, partially melted candles that's wax had dripped and dried ever so slightly down the small, rusted metal plates."About an hour. Maybe an hour and a half. Why?" Richie said casually, closing the book he was 'reading' without marking the page number.

R

    "And you waited for me to wake up, all this time?" Eddie asked him, skeptically this time.  Richie thought for a second, then simply shrugged. He hadn't thought about it that way. "I mean, what else was I supposed to do? And besides," He said, sitting up a bit as Eddie took his head off his lap and sat against the couch once again. "I told you I'd wait for you." He said, trying to hold back a smile.

"That's..." Eddie began talking, but seemed to cut himself off with a new train of thought. "Well, regardless, thank you. That's... nice." Richie raised his eyebrow slyly and shot Eddie a 'what's-going-on-with-you' sort of look. "Wow, look at you being all nice! D'you dream about me, Eds?" Richie replied in a cocky tone. Eddie rolled his eyes jokingly. "Right. You wish." He shot back. Richie chuckled at his response. Eddie laughed, but not a half-hearted laugh. It didn't feel confined, but more free. It just felt actual. Genuine. Like when they were kids. Richie's expression changed a bit, as if he'd been sent back to the past to relive all of his memories and adventures he'd had with Eddie when they were younger all within five seconds. "Wow. That sounded real." He said, sounding more sarcastic than he meant to come across as.

E

Eddie looked up, clearly taken aback by his own laugh. He scoffed, slipping back into his 'persona'. "Okay, Trashmouth. Don't get all philosophical on me now." Eddie replied, but not in a harsh way. Trying to brush off Richie's comment, Eddie flipped the subject. "Uh, how's your book?" Eddie said, gesturing to the book he'd been holding on the small table by the couch. Richie rolled his eyes and inhaled. Eddie could tell Richie was about to go off on another tangent. Probably about how literature was for the 'normies' and 'posh'. "Unbearable! Could hardly get through one page of it," Richie dramatically said, flicking the book away a bit with his pointer finger and thumb. Eddie got a look of the title - it was Pride and Prejudice. "You see, this is the shit I'm talking about." He began, picking up the book and opening it to the second page. "Entirely too much dialogue. And so many names! A ridiculous amount. Like, how the hell am I supposed to know who all of these people are? It's the second page!" "It's a literary classic, Ri-" "And not to mention, they all sound like total virgins. Who talks like this? That's why I don't read anymore. Literature just isn't with the times anymore, Eds. Only rich old white people read. And not to mention the locals." Called it. Richie continued. Eddie sighed once Richie finally stopped talking. "Let me guess,"

    "The movie was better." They said in unison, Eddie predicting exactly what he knew Richie would say. Eddie exasperatingly smiled and Richie stopped, looking to have realised how much and how fast he'd been speaking.

R

"How can you possibly talk that much?" Eddie said, shaking his head. Eddie was obviously joking, but the words kind of hurt Eddie a little. "Well, I have to make up for how little you talk to me. About you, or your life, or whatever. Unless we're fighting, of course. Then you have all the words you could possibly conjure up." Richie said, letting the last part slip out. He didn't mean to sound rude, so he added a small smile and a joking inflection to the end. It was true, though. Partially.

E

    Eddie's smile faded a little into a neutral expression, knowing Richie was right. Eddie was brought back to the fight, knowing how fucked up the things he said were.

Guilt was something he used to not experience too often after the accident. Before the accident, he always felt it. A persistent feeling. Something that would always find its way back into Eddie's head, no matter how much he tried to shut it out. To block it out. Now, the formerly familiar and unwelcoming feeling slithered its way back in.

He spoke after a second, attempting to try following Richie's classic deflection tactics. "Well, I'm sorry I can't be as open as you..." Eddie said, trailing off a bit. He realised how bad he was at deflecting, wishing for Richie 'skills' for just a moment. "It's okay. I was joking." Richie said in a different, less prideful tone. There was a brief moment of silence before Eddie spoke up again. "How do you always know exactly what to say? And how are you able to say... so much?" Eddie said, trying to phrase things the way they were painted in his quick paced mind. The silence crept back in for a second, and Richie's hands stopped fidgeting for once.

R

"Because I know you're the only one who'll listen."