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fans-of-fiction · 6 years

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Tozier, Meet Right Hand - Richie Tozier x Reader (IT)

I owe the anon that requested this an apology because this imagine is over a month late. I feel so guilty for not getting this out sooner but I’ve had a whole slew of mental and physical health problems over the past 4-6 weeks and my emotional PTSD has been weighing me the fuck down. I hope you know that your requests mean more to me than you will ever know. With so much love, E <3

Prompt/Plot: #3 - Anxiety/Panic Attack. Richie has a very hard time admitting his love for Y/N—especially when she seems so close to Bill—but after she shows up at his house in a snowstorm, and helps him after he has a panic attack in Neibolt, he’s ready to make an exception.

Warnings: Richie has a panic attack. Swearing and mentions of masturbation (it’s Richie. What canya do?)

A/N: Written in Richie’s POV. There’s a flashback to the snowstorm that’s acknowledged with time marks. Not a BillxReader though it may seem like so at first.

Words: 5659

July 1989

“Fuck,” I mumbled as Bill, Eddie, Y/N and I stepped into Neibolt. The stale and visibly dusty air wafted around us like smoke in a wind-tunnel. “Wonder how many lepers’ve died in here.”

“Sto-” Eddie gagged audibly. “Stop with the leper talk, Richie! It was,” A click-wheeze came from Eddie’s aspirator as he breathed in deeply. “It was one time!”

I chuckled and looked over at Y/N. She laughed as she knelt down to tie her shoelace with a happy tranquility that almost made me forget we were standing in the middle of a crack-head house. If it wasn’t for the creaking of the heavy, wooden door struggling shut behind us—locking us away from Beverly, Ben, Stan, and Mike—I could have easily thought that we were standing in the middle of the old, dark section of the library where they keep the original copies of Shakespeare, right next to Jesus’s passport.

Bill—our own fearless leader—turned and spoke once he found his bearings. “Guh-guys,” He croaked. We could all tell he was scared, but he stood his ground and hid it well. “I th-thuh-think we sh-ssh-shuh-” He couldn’t get it out.

Y/N stood beside him and slung one arm over his shoulder to calm him. Something bubbled in my stomach. “It’s alright, Bill.” She reassured, her voice soft. “Take your time.”

Bill smiled down at her and she smiled back. The bubbles churned. It was like someone was boiling a kettle in my guts. I looked at the word Freese’s on my shirt. What the fuck? I asked, almost out loud. You’ve had beef burritos before. Would you cool it?

“Th-thanks, Y/N.” Bill managed, ready to start again. “I th-think we shuh-should split up.” His stutter had nearly disappeared with Y/N at his side. Yeah, I chimed in my head. Let’s all split up, Bill. I’ll bet my allowance you and Y/N will find each other anyway. Something clicked in my head. I didn’t do it often, but I found myself stopping to think, and suddenly the feeling made sense. It wasn’t the burritos. It was seeing Y/N help Bill. It was watching Y/N hug Ben when he gave her his spare change for gum. It was hearing Y/N say, ‘I’d hop in Brian’s parachute pants.’ when we watched The Breakfast Club on VHS in Beverly’s apartment. It was because I don’t look like Brian from The Breakfast Club, or Bill, or Ben. Fuck, I thought. The realization crashing over me like a black, choking wave. Richie Tozier, you jealous shit. I could feel my cheeks going red and my pants growing hot. Fuck, I groaned. Fuck. No. Not here. Not in fucking Neibolt. Run your mouth, Tozier. Crack a joke. Spit a remark or something. Do a voice. Do a voice, Richie.

And like that I was Shaggy. “Like zoinks, Fred!” I carolled. “It’s like, get another catchphrase or something, huh-ha!”

Y/N chuckled—Success—but quickly shrugged it away so she wouldn’t make Bill feel bad, but Bill didn’t care. He was determined to find this made-up, whack-job clown. “Ruh-Richie and E-Eh-E-” He tried.

“We get it, Bill.” Click-wheeze. “ Richie and I can stay Can stay on the ground floor if,” He pointed a finger at Bill and Y/N. “You two wanna go upstairs.” The kettle clicked on again broiling harshly. It was so hot that I almost missed the joke opportunity. That’s my cue, I thought.

“Yeah,” I laughed, wrapping my arms around Eddie. “Oh, Bill!” I squeaked. “I’m so scared, Bill! Won’t you hold me?” I shuffled my arms dramatically up and down Eddie’s back and hair, making loud kissing noises. “Mwah mwah Mwah! Oh, Bill! Mwah mwah mwa-”

“Richie!” Eddie shouted and squirmed. “Richie my hair! Have you even washed your hands in the past twenty-four hours, Richie? Richie!” He pushed away, hands rushing up to his head to fix the mess. I doubled over, laughing so hard I could barely breathe. All the heat left my stomach. I managed to stand up and wipe my glasses off, but looking at Y/N I saw that her cheeks were red. Really red. She was embarrassed. Welp, I concluded. That’s it, Trashmouth. You threw away any shot you had. Tozier, meet Right Hand.

Bill put an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and they turned towards the rickety staircase. Wanna go for broke, Tozier? My thoughts were coughing at me. I know well enough that my mouth’s a badly cracked dam, and it��s impossible to stop the leaks. “Be safe you two!” I spurted as they walked away. “Use protection!”

There was a scoff from Eddie. I grinned a Trashmouth’s grin at him but turned back around to find Y/N looking at me. She was disappointed. I would have walked back to my house and locked myself away until I died if Eddie hadn’t scolded me once she and Bill were out of sight. “Are you serious, Richie?” He chided. “Would you just tell her you like her already?”

I turned to Eddie so that I could glare at him through my thick frames. “Gee, Eddie.” I quipped. “Let’s see, if you’re the only Loser I’ve confessed my love for Y/N to, and believe me, I regret that… well… I suppose two and two equal no. Fuck no. Never.” I adjusted my glasses, which were sliding down my hot face. “She’ll never know because she’ll never feel the same way.” I turned to walk away. Anywhere but there under Eddie’s decrypting gaze. “And that’s the story, Eds.”

I made my way to a small alcove—It looked like a living room. In the middle, a lone chair sat in a slew of tangled roots and dead vines, sprouting from the ceiling—but I didn’t make it far. “Richie,” Eddie called. His voice sounded different. Less frustrated and more confused.

It enticed me to look at him again. “What, Eddie?”

He stared at me, eyebrows furrowed. “Richie, you said ‘love.’”

When did I say Love? I thought. I tried to remember but I felt about as confused as Eddie looked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Eddie suddenly smiled. His cheeks turning up to mock me. “You finally said it.” He chirped. “You wouldn’t admit it before, but you just did. You said ‘my love for Y/N’, Richie.”

A floodgate opened. I did say that. Richie Tozier is a bastard in love, Ladies and Gents. I could feel my cheeks catch fire, probably a vivid crimson, and as I mulled over Eddie’s words I could hear his voice, somewhere else, somewhere distant, somewhere on the other end of a telephone line.

Winter 1988

“Richie, could you tell Mrs.Douglas that I won’t be in class tomorrow?” Eddie said into the receiver.

I chuckled. “What’s the matter, Eds? Rather tickle your pickle while your mom’s at work than sit through math?”

Eddie when to sigh but his shitty lungs spat a wheeze instead. “No, you idiot.” Click-wheeze. “My mom’s taking me to the doctor.”

“Why,” I quipped. “Dick stuck in the VHS player again?” He scoffed, but I laughed.

“Richie! That’s gross!” He wailed. “I’m going to the optometrist, dip-shit. My mom wants to make sure I don’t need glasses.”

“Just where my extra pair,” I suggested.

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. “I can see Jupiter in those fuckin things.”

We both giggled, but the moment was cut short by the doorbell. I listened closely to see if I could hear my mother’s footsteps, wondering if she was sober enough to be awake. Silence. “Hold on, Eds.” I sighed, knowing very well that she was unconscious. “Doorbell.”

Put the phone down, but didn’t hang it up, and ran down the stairs. The front hall carpet was cold, a sign that the snow storm blowing outside was as bad as the weather goons had predicted. Putting a hand on the cold, brass doorknob I noticed that I never knew who to expect when opening the door. It could’ve been a salesman, or a dinosaur, or God himself. Frankly, I would have expected anyone else before I expected her.

It was Y/N. I knew her face immediately because whenever she passed in the hallway it was all I could see, though Eddie was the only one who ever caught me staring. She looked cold. So cold that she was shaking, her hands clutched to her chest. Even with frostbite, she was stunning. So stunning that I forgot to crack a joke, or at least say Hey.

“Richie!” She exclaimed, her voice barely audible in the wailing wind. I noticed her teeth chattering in between words. Don’t be a pussy, Tozier. Let the pretty girl in.

I moved out of the way and put one hand on her shoulder, guiding her into the house. “Holy shit, Y/N,” I said, stunned. “What the hell are you doing outside in that storm.”

She chuckled. My concern wasn’t a joke, but even in the cold, her laugh was warm, like Saturday morning sunshine. “It wasn’t this bad before.” She assured. “It was nice enough to walk to Mr.Keene’s, but all of a sudden the wind picked up and the next thing I knew I was on your doorstep.”

I chuckled, feeling an odd sense of honour that she recognized my house and felt safe enough with me to seek shelter from a snowstorm with me. “You can stay here until it passes if you want.” I offered, hoping and praying that the storm would last forever. Now’s your chance to get to know her, Richie. I thought. Now’s your chance to impress the hell out of a pretty girl from the safety and comfort of your own home.

Y/N smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Richie.” She said. “I really appreciate it, especially because,” She paused. “Well, I guess we don’t know each other that well, do we?”

I thought about it for a second, but only because it took me aback. I felt weird to think that I’d known her for any less than forever. I shrugged my shoulders. “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” I lulled casually in my best Clark Gable impression before turning towards my kitchen. She chuckled. I felt a sense of success I rarely felt with my parents. My Dad always working, my Mom always drinking. It made me feel good. Hopeful. Like I’d been working in a sulfur mine all my life and just caught my first breath of fresh air.

I was looking at her differently now. I didn’t just see a beautiful girl I’d love to parade around the school beside. I saw a beautiful girl who—despite being frozen—radiated warmth and light. I felt a sudden urge to sweep her up in my arms. Shut up, Trashmouth. My head spat. You’ll only ever be the kid who lived in a warm house when she got caught in a snowstorm. The thought hurt, and though I tried to push it out, it pushed back. You shouldn’t flatter yourself, Richie. The least you can do is help her enjoy her stay in your dark and lonely house before she forgets all about you. Now, go be a man. I took a deep breath. “You look freezing.” I acknowledged, motioning to her shaking hands.

She chuckled. “I guess so.” I could still hear her teeth chattering. At the bottom of the stairs sat the clean laundry my mom was going to take up before she popped the cork on what was probably her second bottle of wine that day. I grabbed a blanket and walked over to Y/N, pulling it around her shoulders.

“Here,” I mumbled bashfully. “You should probably warm yourself up.” Her face was so close to mine that I could smell her chapstick. Cherry. She smiled as we made eye contact and then reached up and fixed my glasses, which were sliding down my face. I chuckled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Her smile grew. “Thanks for letting me stay for a little while.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to calm the goosebumps. “No problem.”

We made our way into the kitchen. I flicked the kettle on. As I was searching through the cupboards for the box of hot chocolate mix, Y/N took a seat at the table. I could hear her pull the wooden chair out and sit down on its creaky seat. I looked for the hot chocolate a little harder, with hopes that I’d find it soon and could distract Y/N so she couldn’t notice how dusty and cold the house really was.

As if to confirm my worries that she was looking around, eyes scanning the walls and shelves to find some secret part of my backstory that she could crack, I heard her chair push back on the linoleum floor. I heard her step around the table to the wall with the family photos on it, her socked feet making only soft sweeping sounds. Please, I begged, practically tossing bowls and cups across the floor. Please don’t look at those. They’re not me. I’m not my family. I’m not my mother, the alcoholic, or my father, the worker who ignores his trashmouth son. I’m not them. They’re not me. They’re not-”

“So this is your family, huh?” Shit. Her voice was soft and polite. Enough so that I ignored her almost presumptuous question.

“Yeah,” I joked, ignoring the mess of kitchenware and the fact that I probably had no hot chocolate to begin with. I walked over and stood with my back to the photos, facing Y/N. I smiled an overdramatic grin. “Don’t we look alike?”

She chuckled, seeing clearly that my parents and I held little resemblance. “Are either of them home?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing. She was wondering why she hadn’t thought of asking earlier.

I debated lying to Y/N. Telling her that both my parents were in Venezuela on an expedition or something. But looking into her eyes I found something pure. Something whole that said ‘I won’t judge you, Richie. You can trust me.’ And so I trusted her, but not with the whole truth. “My dad’s at work,” I explained. “My mom’s having a nap in the den.” Quick thinking, Richie. If you were only that quick on your feet, maybe you’d have less trouble with Bowers. My stomach hurt just thinking of the mulleted asshole, so I focused on Y/N. I studied her face and found no signs of judgement, only curiosity and beauty.

“Oh,” she said. “Will she be mad if she sees a girl in the house?”

I thought about it for a second. The answer was yes. She would probably be appalled. She may even throw Y/N back out on the street before she could slip her boots on again, but she would definitely notice me. Maybe even see my cry for love and attention and give me some for once. But it would take something drastic. Something that I wasn’t willing to drag Y/N into. Something that I hadn’t even noticed was about to happen anyway, because I hadn’t heard the TV click off, or the scuffling of my mother’s slippers. I hadn’t noticed her standing in the doorway, already positioned—slightly off-kilter with the wine in her system—to rip both Y/N and I apart.

“Richard Tozier,” She tried to boom, but it only came out as a deep slurred mess. I could smell the alcohol on her breath from several feet away, and with Y/N standing unfortunately in between the two of us I knew that she could smell it too. She was probably already figuring out the basics of the Tozier household. Drunken mother, working father, under-acknowledged Richie Tozier. “Did you think you could sneak some tramp into the house without my knowing?” Her eyes were distant, glazed over, never quite finding what she was looking at.

Y/N turned to look at me. She wasn’t as offended as she was concerned. Thanks for blowing it, mom. I could tell she wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but she was smart enough to know that it wasn’t quite right.

My mother spoke again. “Turn the kettle off and get her out of here, Richard.” She babbled. “I want you to do your homework, not this-”

“I don’t have any homework, mom.” I corrected her. “I told you that when I got home.”

She squinted her eyes at me, her eyelashes curling against her eyelids. “Don’t lie to me, Richard,” She tried. “You said that you had a science project, remember?” She sounded so sure of herself that it sparked pity in my gut. Pity for both her and myself and Y/N for having to watch it all unfold.

“That was last week, mom,” I mumbled. “Last week was the science fair. I had to carry my project four miles to the school and back. Remember?” I could feel tears threatening to spill behind my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of Y/N so I held them back. Looking at her gave me enough strength to subdue the urge to let them fly, but it also made me aware of her new expression. Her eyebrows turned up ever-so-slightly. She understood what was happening fully now, and she pitied me. She pitied poor, ignored Richard Tozier, who only craved knowing that his parents gave half a shit about him. She was as witty and observant as I was. I wondered if she also felt like she was too smart for her own good, and as she saw me wonder I saw her scheme.

Her eyebrows relaxed, her eyes gained a sense of confidence they didn’t have before, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. I had no idea what she was planning to do, but the thrill of it was almost enough to send me over the edge.

“No, no,” My mother mumbled defiantly. “No that was today, Richard. I remember it like my own name and I won’t have you lie to me. Now go do your homework!” She tried to raise her voice but only hiccuped instead.

Before she could turn away to return to the den, Y/N stepped back towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist, pulling me in. Suddenly she wasn’t herself. It gave me a strange sensation, like I was watching myself do a voice or host an impression. She became someone new.

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Tozier.” She cooed, one hand reaching up to pull off my glasses smoothly. “But I doubt that Richie’s gonna get to do any sort of work today.” My mother—though disoriented—was still coherent and fully noticed the handsy actions Y/N was putting out. Her face went red. “I’m afraid,” Y/N continued. “The only thing he’ll be doing today is-”

My mother had had enough. “Young lady!” She managed, though still slurring. “I’ll have you-” Hiccup. “Get your hands off my-” Another hiccup. “Off my son!”

Y/N laughed, and like that, I saw her plan in full light. It was brilliant. She was brilliant. “Oh, I can manage that,” She grinned. “The real problem is keeping Richie’s hands off of me.”

My mother yelped and tried to run out of the kitchen, but she could only manage a slumped set of lunges. “Oh, my!” She cried out. “I need another drink.” The thump thump thump of her crashing steps faded as she left Y/N and I standing together in the fluorescent-lit room.

I turned to Y/N, who was smiling so fiercely her cheeks strained to keep up. “That should get her to pay attention from now on, huh?” She laughed, but I stared in awe, hyper-aware that she hadn’t yet let go of my waist. I could feel her warmth radiating through my Hawaiian shirt. Suddenly the white lights didn’t feel so cold. The room didn’t feel so empty. My house no longer felt lonely. Y/N—with only her smile and her divine presence—filled the void of the house I’d been fighting to fix for years. My house was the sulfur mine, and Y/N was a million breaths of fresh air. I would’ve stood and stared until I died, if she hadn’t pulled away.

“Thanks for saving me from the cold, Richie.” She said, still grinning from ear to ear. “And I’m sorry if I just got you grounded, but I thought maybe-”

“I don’t care if she throws me out.” I interrupted, half aware that my mouth was moving. “That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N smiled bashfully and looked at her feet. “It was my pleasure.” She assured. “But I should probably head out now. My parents will be worried if I’m not back soon.”

Her smile faded as I nodded. We made our way to my front door. She started to take the blanket off her shoulders, but I told her to keep it for the walk home. “Once again, Richie,” She smiled. “Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. I could feel my face go red. She noticed my crimson cheeks and giggled, before stepping out the door, and just like that, she had gone as softly and abruptly as she had come.

“Holy fuck,” I said out loud as soon as the door shut. “Wait ‘til I tell Eddie.” I stopped for a second. “Oh, fuck, Eddie!” I took the stairs two at a time, raced back up to my room, and threw the phone up to my cheek so fast I almost took off my glasses. “Eddie! Shit, man I’m sorry dude.”

Eddie scoffed on the other end of the line. “That was a long time, Richie. Who the fuck was at your door?” He paused. “And if you say something witty like ‘It was Y/N, the hottie that I’ve been eyeing for months. We boned for a while until our love sparked a fire hardy-har-har’ then I will walk to your house and slap you myself, Tozier.” I laughed. Long and hard enough to get Eddie very concerned and very curious. “What the hell are you laughing about, Richie.”

And though it took some convincing and a promise or two, I made it through the story of the past twenty-five minutes. “Jesus Christ, Richie,” Eddie mumbled. I could practically see the dumbfounded look on his face. “I knew you had a crush on her, but shit, the way you’re describing her… Richie Tozier is a bastard in love, isn’t he?”

I laughed, but in surprise rather than amusement. No matter how much I liked Y/N, no matter how much I wanted to scream from the fucking rooftops that I would happily marry her, I would never tell Eddie that I was in love. Not willingly. I would never admit that I loved her—out loud, especially to anyone else—until I knew she felt the same way. “I’m not in love, you idiot.” I spat. “She’s just hot, you know.”

“Oh suure, Richie.” Eddie retorted sarcastically. “You’re not in love and my mother wants me to roll around in the sewers as a hobby.”

I laughed back at him, but it felt forced. I couldn’t let him know. Not now. Not yet.

July 1989

“Okay, so what?” I asked. Throwing my hands up and turning towards the alcove again. “So what if I said it, it doesn’t matter because she can’t hear me and even if she could, she wouldn’t understand.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie fought back. Though I was facing away from him I could practically see the scrunched, ‘Would you get a load of this guy?’ look on his face. “You know damn well that she feels the same way about you, Richie. Why would she help you with your mother if she didn’t care? You know she only lives a block away from you, right?” In honesty, I didn’t know that. I would have turned around to look at Eddie and ask how he knew but a piece of paper caught in the dead foliage demanded my attention, though that didn’t stop Eddie from talking. “She could have made it through that storm easily, but no. She remembered where your house was that one time you had that garage sale, remember Richie? She knew where you lived and she took shelter with you because she fucking loves you too, dip-shit!”

His voice sounded distant. It was like this paper, this flyer, had sucked in all of my senses. I reached the roots and plunged a hand in, clutching the sheet and pulling it out to reveal a face I saw every day in the mirror. It was my school picture. I was smiling up at myself through my glasses, which were nearly covered under my hair. At the top of the page, in massive, attention-grabbing, black letters was the word Missing.

My head clouded over as the room began to spin. Eddie was talking but I couldn’t hear him. I could barely hear myself wheezing. Air. Shit. Where the fuck did the air go? Suddenly I found myself craving the old, dusty air of the Neibolt house. I was choking for anything and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t assume control over my body. My heart was pounding so hard I could practically see it. Cold sweat was causing my glasses to slide down my nose, but with my aching hands grasping the paper I didn’t bother to fix them. My diaphragm tried to draw air in but it kept hitching in my throat.

“Richie?” Eddie called over, concerned. “Richie, you look really pale. Are you ok, dude?” I couldn’t answer. My tunnel vision was hyper-focused on the paper. I could feel myself beginning to black out. Eddie screamed something but fuck if I knew what it was. I was too busy shaking to figure it out. My knees were beginning to buckle underneath me and if it weren’t for the hands on either one of my arms, helping me sit down, I would have collapsed. Someone took the paper from my hands. I wished and I willed for my eyes to focus, and after a little while, they finally did. My eyes cleared to reveal Y/N. She had tossed the flyer off to the side and knelt beside me, her hands on either side of my face. She was staring into my eyes and though I couldn’t hear her, I figured she was pleading. Probably for me to calm down, or take a breath, or stay alive. Believe me, love, I thought. I’m trying.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop struggling. I wondered if Y/N had read the flyer and figured out why I’m in my current state. She was certainly sharp enough to do so. As if to prove me right, her voice broke through. “Richie, you’re here with us. Look. Look at us, Richie! You’re not missing!” She hit the nail on the head, and much like when she saved me in my own house, she was saving me now. It was as if I’d been trying to listen to her through fifty feet of water, drowning in the sea, but she managed to swim to my depth and pull me up again. I could see and hear and breathe and for the first time in the past forever I felt calm, though my heart was racing. I raised a hand and pointed at the Missing poster. “B-Buh-But I-I-” Eddie thrust his aspirator at me. I took it graciously.

“You’re here, Richie. You’re right here.” She shuffled forward on her knees and pulled me gently into her chest. “I know that this scares you, but if you ever went missing, the Losers and I would never stop until we found you. Understand?” I murmured. Y/N pulled away for a second to look in my eyes. “You understand that, right, Richie? We would risk life and limb to get you back if that’s what it cost.”

I nodded, still trying to gain my composure. She smiled. “Wanna hear a joke?”

I mustered a half-smile. “You-” Wheeze. “Bet I do.”

She chuckled. “What’s the difference between a tire and 365 used condoms?”

I stared at her for a second—who would’ve guessed that Y/N had any dirty jokes in her arsenal—then shrugged my shoulders.

“One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a great year.”

I let out a howl of laughter, hunching half in between my knees. Oh, I noted. There are my lungs.

“Fuck panic attacks.”

I smiled. “Y-yeah.” I squeaked. “Fuck” Wheeze. “panic attacks.”

Y/N laughed with me and then spoke. “How about we get you out of here, huh?” I nodded again. Y/N stood up and turned to Bill. “Could you help Richie outside?”

Bill nodded excessively. “Uh-of course.” He knelt down, slung my left arm over his shoulder, and helped me stand up. Y/N helped Eddie crack open the front door. They walked out first and explained what had happened to Mike, Ben, Stan, and Beverly.

“T-thanks” Wheeze. “for helping me, Bill.” I managed. “I r-really” Wheeze. “appreciate it.”

Bill chuckled softly. “That’s f-fine, R-ruh-Rich. I-I know p-puh-panic at-tacks can be s-ss-scary. Yuh-you’re just l-luh-lucky that Eh-Eddie yelled up f-for Y/N.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry for joking about you and Y/N earlier, I didn’t mean to-”

He cut me off by laughing. “Th-that’s ok, R-Richie. Y/N was w-wuh-worried about the j-jokes at first, but I just t-tuh-told her it was b-because you l-luh-love her.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? I-I don’t love Y/N.” I shook my head and forced a fake laugh, but it was too late. Bill already knew.

“Th-that’s ok, Eddie. We c-could tell. Th-th-the hard p-part was convincing Y/N ab-bout it.”

“Y/N,” I had to stop myself from screaming. “Y/N knows?! Bill, I totally annoy her, why would the-” His furrowed eyebrows made me stop. “What?”

“You d-d-don’t know?”

I shook my head, lost. “Know what?”

“Y/N l-luh-loves you.”

For a second I couldn’t breathe again. I stopped walking and stared at him. “There’s no way.”

He laughed. “Shuh-she does, R-ruh-Richie” He said matter-of-factly. “Y/N told the l-luh-losers wuh-weeks ago.”

I stared at him. “Weeks ago? Dude, why didn’t anybody tell me?!”

“She w-wanted you to f-fuh-find out on y-your own, Rich.” Bill walked down the stairs and over to his bike. I made note that the rest of the Loser’s had picked theirs up too. Mike, Ben, Stan, and Beverly were all looking at me, concerned.

“You ok, Richie?” Mike asked. I nodded and then glanced at Y/N. She met my eyes and gave me a warm smile, taking the chill out of my chest.

I knew that Bill was telling the truth but there was no way in hell I could accept it. I looked at Eddie. You knew the whole time, didn’t you? I spat sarcastically in my head. Eddie turned as if he could feel my glare and looked back at me, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Asshole. I chuckled and then looked at Y/N again. She was on her bike, one foot on its pedal, ready to ride away. I remembered how she stood up for me in my house, how she radiated warmth and light, how she kissed wrapped her arms around me when I introduced her to the Loser’s and they let her join, how she was my breath of fresh air, both within my house and the Crack-Heads’. Jokes may help you in your sulfur mine of a house, Tozier, but they won’t help under water. I told myself. Go chase your air.

I knew exactly what I had to do. I scuttled down the Neibolt steps, across the lawn, and over to Y/N’s bike. Glancing at Eddie I could see his content expression. He knew what I was doing. Don’t flatter yourself, Eddie Spaghetti. I chuckled in my head before standing in front of Y/N’s bike, my hands on her handlebars.

She put her pedal-foot down and began to speak, but I cut her off. “Y/N, I-I’ve been meaning to… to tell you that… well… I-I kinda-” Once again I couldn’t get the words out, and upon further inspection, I realized that Y/N’s lips were on mine. This is the kinda silence I can get behind. I could taste her cherry chapstick and I could smell her shampoo and I couldn’t help but close my eyes before pulling away. It was as if I’d just taken seventeen thousand hits of Eddie’s aspirator.

“I love you too, Richie.” She chuckled. All I could manage was a wow. She laughed again but louder. I leaned in again to kiss her cheek but the moment was broken by Eddie’s screaming.

“I fucking told you, Tozier!” He yelled, a smile overtaking his face. The Loser’s—myself and Y/N included—burst out in a swell of laughter.

I walked over and gave him a noogie. “I guess ya did Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Richie!” Eddie squealed. “My hair, Richie!” I laughed, reached down, and grabbed my bike. Bill pedalled Silver forward, the first to kick up the gravel of Neibolt Street. The rest of the Loser’s weren’t far behind. With Y/N and I riding in the back, we headed into town. Along the way, I couldn’t help but stare at her. She loves me. Y/N loves the Trashmouth, and the Trashmouth loves her too. And so we rode through Derry, forgetting all about old houses, and dusty air and fucking clowns. Instead, I appreciated the warmth of the July sun, the smell of what Stan calls Phlox flowers, and Y/N, because thanks to her, I can breathe.

I fucking love all of you lovely readers and I wish you all the best in life.

With love,

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