𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐞

E
It was twenty minutes later. While the two spoke much more in the bathroom, it was a personal occurrence. Only they will know what was said to each other in the bathroom that morning.
Eddie was sitting on one of the wooden stools in the small kitchen. His mind and eyes were in very different places. As for his eyes, he was looking at the lush, green trees and how they'd move without a care in the world, as if simply being commanded by the gusts of wind was their only job. The wind smelled fresh, filing Eddie's senses with a pure and clean-smelling scent, almost as if pollution didn't exist. His eyes looked at the flowers, which remained in a fixed position, but seemed to have so much life in them, more alive than Eddie had felt in some moments. The colors were rich and seemed like they could be made from dry paint, yet not dulled. They glimmered vibrantly in an appealing way, the colors almost signaling something in Eddie's brain to stop thinking so much.
As Eddie sat in pensive thought, Richie's words absorbed into Eddie's stream of consciousness. 'It's the fact that I don't want to repeat history.' The words that had been leisurely swimming around Eddie's mind, trying their best to escape, but the tide pulling them in deeper to Eddie's thoughts that just wouldn't leave. Eddie didn't know for certain why the worse stuck with him so prominently or why Richie had said those words, but he knew that something wasn't sitting well with him.
He didn't want to feel that way. He felt guilty for even assuming that Richie would do something to hurt him, but the paranoid thoughts remained. He wanted to truly believe that Richie wasn't that person, and he mostly did believe that. There was still a dark crimson sliver of skepticism that ran like an arrow through Eddie's heart, changing ever so slightly how he felt about Richie. He knew that his love for the boy was deep and sincere, that went without saying. There was just a feeling. The feeling you get when you're watching a horror movie and you're screaming at the television, begging the protagonist to run away while they aimlessly stand there, waiting to become yet another victim in the hands of the antagonist.
Eddie's eyes caught the attention of Richie, turning to face from the window to him. He had a perfect frame of the boy, like a camera focused in just the right way, all distractions and background interruptions merely blurred from the photo. He was sitting on the couch, the sun shining down on him, making his fair skin porcelain-like and seraphic. The light illuminated Richie, letting him truly be seen and not hidden. He seemed to not be trying to conform to a mold or expectation of what Eddie would want to see. He just sat there, not looking like much was on his mind. His eyes were at rest, simply looking down at his lap. His eyes were unsettlingly deep and tragic. Despite the staggering beauty of the eyes, they held a cataclysmic manner, even when the boy was at a resting state. They showed that there was always something on the boy's mind. Always some thought abiding close by, keeping watch over his mind.
Eddie was tired of staring. He walked over to Richie, the eyes looking up, which made Eddie think he could nearly faint.
He almost always felt lightheaded when Richie started at him, but never like this. He realised it was because he was so fixated on his eyes, as if Richie himself did not exist, and just the boy's eyes. He had been examining them and analyzing them as if they were a part of a Michelangelo sculpture, with precision and acute details that disengaged themselves from the entirety of the sculptures. Richie was truly divinely made. A lot of detail was spent on him.
If a god did exist, Eddie truly wondered how he could create someone as celestially made and intricate as Richie Tozier.
Bringing himself out of the shock was Richie, who spoke to break the silence which was not awkward to Eddie, but clearly awkward to Richie.
"It's sort of... weird how long you stare at people." Richie said, with a smile ever so slightly atypical that it was endearing and enticing. Eddie looked down, trying not to blush, with a soft, breathy laugh. "Sorry," Eddie said bashfully, caught off guard by Richie's response. "No, it's alright, but maybe look away the next time you fantasize about me." Eddie's eyes grew wide, trying not to show how alarmed the statement made him feel. 'Stop it, Tozier. Don't make me feel this way, not right now.' He didn't understand how someone could be so goddamn charming yet so incredibly annoying. Eddie rolled his eyes. "Right, like I'd fantasize about you, Trashmouth." He said, smiling a classic half smile that he could seem to break past yet.
Richie laughed a little, filling Eddie's ears with the melodious tunes that played like a vinyl on a record, without skipping. Eddie watched as Richie moved with such... intention. He always looked like he had a plan for each movement he'd make, yet have it come off so effortlessly. He looked animated almost. Eddie couldn't understand how someone who seemed so intensely broken could be so lively, being the most charismatic person that they both knew. He wished he could help Richie understand that about himself. The fact that he didn't have to make all of the right moves, and he often missed every move even a little bit, but he didn't have to keep trying harder. It was okay to miss all of the moves in the little chess game of theirs - even the best chess players would make a wrong move. Doing every move perfectly wasn't how their game was played. It was messy. It was full of mistakes. There were no "rules". It just worked.
Even Eddie was surprised at how perfectly imperfect their game of chess was, but it was theirs, and his words would come cheap if he didn't say it was his most favourite thing in the world.

author's note: sorry for this being so description heavy as well as the past few chapters, i'm going to work on some dialogue and planning for more things to happen.