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If moments could breathe.
If suddenly everything could just, be alive, all the oxygen in the world could just cease to exist, and you were just there...euphoric.
It was only a moment, but within that moment, everything Stan ever wished, felt or feared, disappeared. Within, he was within. The world stop moving for a moment and everything slowed.
It's all a moment, just one, one moment of everything at once. Anything before was nothing. Everything after, nothing. Just that one moment.
Time beneath, within Bill's touch was drowning, nothing was ever real, it was all infinite. Like he was told earlier, everything seemed to have a life of it's own and he didn't need to breathe. If moments could breathe. This was a drug, and Stan was addicted. If kisses could kill.
And then the moment fell apart, the life faded into nothing and Stan was suddenly very aware of every strand of air that fell in and out of us lungs. He was without.
Infinity was a moment, euphoria, all a moment, because Bill pushed him away softly, his gaze darkening, like that moment didn't bring him life, but...death. Hurt deepened beneath Bill's gaze and he shook his head softly before disappearing out of the room. If looks could kill.
"I swear down if Stan tries to blame me for that-" Richie began but was cut off by a threatening glance from Bev.
"Beep Beep Richie" Stan muttered before silence eveloped around them, all with the same thought embedded within, or without, 'It was a joke, what the fuck happened?'
This was a strange position for Stan, through the unusual amount of versions of this game he had played in the past, Stan had ended up kissing practically every single one of the Losers. It was always half a moment, always exaggerated sound effects during and fits of giggles post. But this was a moment.
Stan managed to pick himself off of the carpet pretty quickly, for his current levels of alochol consumption and made a mental note to add that to his award cabient, in his head, right next to being able to pretend to laugh at ten Richie jokes in a row. A personal record.
Bill was leaning against the brick wall, outside of Mike's house, looking down at his knackered converse that he kept scraping against the floor. He looked a lot calmer, a lot more relaxed than his panic response inside. "You alright?" Stan asked, folding his arm and leaning against the wall, a safe distance from him.
Bill looked up to him, cautiously "I'm fine" He said, his tone relaxed, stutter gone poof. But Stan wasn't convinced.
"I wasn't going to let Richie win" Stan said and Bill nodded, like he wasn't really listening. "You'd be surprised what I do to get back at him, it was nothing"
Bill glared at him, no longer distracted by everything and anything that wasn't Stan. "You don't get do you?" He asked, again his tone strangely calm, not complenenting his choice words, it made Stan feel uncomfortable. No stutter, just calm. "That's why I'm pissed, I'm not a prank, I'm not a trick you can use for you own petty revenge, I don't like being used Stan. I don't care what happened within your group, but you should know most people don't kiss people they barely know for their own means"
