A Player's First Choice // Stenbrough

065 / Just hurry

"Yeah. Just hurry I don't wanna be with this asshole anymore."

++++

We sit on the floor for a bit as he continues to cry. His whimpers become quieter as the seconds pass by slowly.

I rock him back and forth as he sits in between my legs. His head rested on my collarbones. His eyes begin to flutter close.

"Bill...come on. Let's go lay down." "Are you leaving? Please don't." "I'm not leaving. I promise." I whisper kissing his forehead as we stand up.

"L-Lay with me please." He whispers. I remember he's still very drunk.

"I will. Go lay down." He nods rubbing his eye gently. He walks down the hallway slowly, his feet hitting the ground softly. It stops as the bed creeks and he lays down.

Stan

S: Did you know he did that?

R: Cry if he thought you left him? Yeah. I can't count on my fingers how many times he has.

S: it's Connor's fault isn't it?

R: Yeah. He'll do it again if he falls back asleep.

—

It's almost if Bill knew Richie sent that text.

"Stan? You didn't l-leave, did you? I-I-I thought you promised." He whispers. "You lied." He whimpers.

His face lights up slightly as he finds me standing in the doorway. He stands up, hugging me tightly. I stumble backward.

"Please don't leave." "I won't. I promise." I whisper leading him to the bed and laying down.

"Please don't leave again," he whispers leaning into my side. His breathing slows as begins to fall asleep.

Richie

R: He'll wake up throughout the night

S: It'll be fine

R: Night

S: Night rich

Turning my phone off I run my fingers through his hair. Kissing his forehead gently as his soft breathing fills the room. My eyes flutter close slowly.

—

"Stan?" "Hmm?" "I thought you left." His arms squeeze my torso gently as we both sit half asleep.

—Thursday 6:40

"Stan?" "I'm here..." "Yeah. Why are you here?" I open my eyes, my eyes adjust to the dim room.

"You were drunk last night." "Whatever." He pushes away, clearly annoyed with my presence.

"Listen asshole it's not my fault I'm here. You were drunk and were stuck in a tree and wouldn't get out unless I came to get you." He gives me a look meaning he doesn't believe me.

"Ask Richie. Asshole." I mutter grabbing my stuff. "Stop being pissed off all the time." He grips my wrist gently. "Fuck off." I start dialing a number.

"Richie I need to you come to pick me up." "Get back in the fucking house. You're sick." He pulls me back in. "Yeah. Just hurry I don't wanna be with this asshole anymore."

He glares at me. Clearly annoyed.