𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬 | 𝐞 & 𝐫

E

    Eddie felt the lock on the bathroom again, feeling that it was twisted to ensure it was locked due to his lack of vision in the dark room. A coldness rushed in, despite the fact that the small glass window in the room was shut completely. Chills ran through Eddie, his grounding techniques not working.

    He stood up, not breathing well. He felt as if his soul was being constricted, any life that was previously there being melted away like the warm, thick wax of a candle set aflame. The candle's scent was woodsy, smelling of the a chilly forest in the winter, devoid of the effervescent chirping birds and leaves which spiraled down divinely in an array of autumnal colors which were there in the fall.

    He frantically opened the eggshell white wooden medicine cabinets beside the mirrors. His hands were violently shaking as he searched through the cabinets for his emergency inhaler. Pill bottles were knocked over in the process, bottles likely left from the previous owners. One of the lids was unscrewed, sending blue tipped candy-like pills everywhere onto the floors. This sent Eddie's panic higher, not only not being able to find his inhaler, but worrying about having to clean up the sizable mess that he was sure he was making.

    Exhausted, Eddie sat on the floor, trying to catch his breath before he thought it would permanently slip away from him. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck..." He muttered under his breath, trying to regain his composure quietly. He heard footsteps, likely from Richie.

R

    Richie sat in the bed as he watched Eddie walk out of the room. He took a deep inhale, trying to keep his mind tied to it's stable place before it escaped, running to the darkest places which he'd tried to avoid. Just for today. One day. He wasn't going to overthink it, after all, Eddie was a human being with emotions of his own. Maybe he shouldn't have come on so strongly, it was early in the morning, after all.

'I fucked it all up.' Richie thought to himself, laying in the bed for a little longer. The sheer sheets were no comfort to him anymore. Instead of light and fleecy like a hazy spring dream as they did before, they felt heavy and cumbersome, pulling him down with their lumbering weight, making him feel as if he'd sink through the bed at any given moment.

He exhaled, getting up out of the bed, which seemed nearly impossible for him to do. Time had felt like a fleeting, illusory concept only a few minutes ago. It wasn't real. The only thing that was real was he and Eddie. They were simply floating through the universe in bliss, two beings whose heartstrings were tied splendidly together, the strings in perfect tuning with each other. Their hearts played a song that Richie thought he'd forgotten a while ago, yet in perfect orchestration as if they hadn't gone a day without practicing. The song was pure yet intricate in all of it's details. The gradual crescendos and decrescendos built the strongness of the song, making it seem more than what would meet the average human ear. Each tempo change had a significance to it, and the key signature was sharp, yet the requiem had an engaging and rich sense of lust and sensuality to it that made it feel genuine and indescribably personal.

Remembering this song, Richie craved that feeling back. He wasn't going to give up, no matter how impossible their love seemed. He'd attain that song in all of his glory and perfection again, yet this time, not forgetting it and staying in rhythm. He wouldn't say or do anything that could strike a wrong chord. He'd understand Eddie deeply without hindrance, and his mind wouldn't get in the way of it. It just wouldn't.

He stood up from the sheets, which's weight had seemingly decreased, and he began feeling the wind blow in his face from the window he'd opened. A gentle chill grazed across him. It wasn't cold or uninviting. It was soothing and assuring. It was the kind of reminder he needed that he was still here - things weren't ruined or gone for good. As long as he was here, he could try to mend things between him and Eddie. All he needed to do was be here.

He walked to the bathroom door, feeling some of the confidence dissipate as he remembered who he was dealing with. He had to choose his words carefully, out of fear that Eddie wouldn't want to see him right now. A small cloud of worry glided over Richie's head. Before any negative precipitation could come from the cloud, Richie spoke. "Eds?"

E

"Eds?" As Eddie was against the door trying to ease his panic, he heard Richie's soothing voice. A voice that could move mountains yet not harm anything in the mountain's path. Then, Eddie remembered something -

He could breathe.

He took a deep breath, feeling the panic alleviate from his chest. He cupped his face in his hands, feeling ashamed and partially guilty that he'd left Richie in there. He knew how Richie was - he'd probably gone down an entire shame spiral within his few minutes of being separated from him, probably thinking about all of the escapes he could make just so he didn't have to see Eddie's face again. Eddie swallowed and inhaled again, wanting to feel something to make sure he was still there and hadn't passed out. How could he do that to Richie? Eddie couldn't even think about himself at the moment - he was just worried about Richie.

"Eds, can I come in?" He heard, a bit muffled from the other side of the door. Eddie nervously dug his tips of his nails into the beige colored grout, something he usually wouldn't have done because of the germs that could be covering the surface, but germs were the least of Eddie's worries right now, for once in his life. Eddie put his head against the wall, taking off some of the pressure and tension that was resting on his shoulders and his lower back from being hunched over. He looked up at the ceiling. Well, not at the ceiling, rather feeling as if he was looking through it. He didn't know what he was looking for. Maybe a sign, maybe god. Maybe just as a flightless bird would look up, feeling hopeless about the fact that even his wings could not do their own job adequately.

"Yeah." Eddie said, still catching his breath from holding it for so long. Eddie slid his head up to unlock the door, moving at an angle and off the door so that Richie could come in. Eddie twisted the lock, bringing his hands back to do the floor with trepidation.

"Hey..." Richie said to him in a voice so soft and creamy that Eddie could have imagined it really was god. Richie stepped in, Eddie's eyes looking back up to his dark eyes. They didn't look as rigid as they usually did, though. They looked tired, but with a certain velour gentleness that they could have completely passed as someone else's eyes all together.

R

"What happened? Are you okay?" Richie said, looking down at Eddie. Eddie was sitting against the door just as Richie had been that previous night. Richie's eyes met his. He had the same look of fear that Richie could have imagined he had, except the tension in his expression seemed to gradually melt away as Richie started to speak to him. He'd like to think it wasn't coincidence, but in honesty, he believed that his words couldn't truly affect anyone in that way.  He held the belief that they couldn't affect anyone in any way, unless it was for worse and not for better.

"Did I do something?" He said after Eddie didn't answer yet, a tinge of insecurity leaping out from his mouth. Richie sat down on the floor as well. He didn't like the feeling - it reminded him yet again of the gas station bathroom. He yearned to stand up to relieve himself of the disgusting and belittling feeling, but he didn't, no matter how much the disconcerting memory crawled all over his skin. He wanted to stay there. For Eddie.

Looking over at the boy and into his eyes, again, some of that feeling left. Some of it,'

    "No, no, it's not you. I told you, It's just me," Eddie started speaking. Richie looked into his face, feeling as if some of it was a lie. Or at least not the whole truth. "It was an asthma thing." Eddie finished, some of his words sounding unsure. Richie couldn't explain it away, so he figured it would be better to just take Eddie's word for it. He put his head on the bathroom door to match Eddie's. Richie's hand made its way over to Eddie's, touching the boys soft, velveteen skin lightly. He felt cold. It wasn't just a normal type of cold, the type from being out in the winter that made your skin appear flushed and gave you goosebumps. A distinct and familiar kind of cold, one Richie had felt before in various moments of his life that he couldn't seem to piece together.

E

    Eddie felt... safe. There was a slight instinct in Eddie to flinch when Richie grazed the palm of his hand, but he ignored this instinct. How could someone so charmingly innocent ever intent to hurt him, or anyone else, for that matter? It was irrational. It was all irrational.

    However, every sinister thought has at least a little bit of truth behind it.