sometimes the monsters live inside us too.
[summary inside]
it2017 | eddie kaspbrak x oc
i do not own the 'it' franchise. i only take
credibility for my origin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
' ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɢᴇᴛs ᴄʀᴀᴢɪᴇʀ. ' ↙︎
it's a pretty long chapter. prepare yourselves! (;
✰✰✰
THERE WERE SEVERAL REASONS AS TO WHY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, the young Kaspbrak boy had dubiously and timorously sauntered his way over to Verity's room. He had been up the entire night, depicting whether to stay in the room with her snoring brother or to ask the Owens girl if he could stay in her room. On the floor, of course.
Slipping quietly and deliberately into the girl's room, the door slowly creaked open, eliciting Verity to bolt up from her bed, eyes wide and conscious alert.
When her eyes landed on Eddie making his way inside with a blanket clutched tightly in his hands, pressed against his mouth, she grew concerned. "Ed?" Verity croaked, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stretched her arms above her. "A-are you okay? What's wrong?"
Well, Eddie had wanted to so staggeringly spill all the reasons as to why he had crept foolishly into her room, yet his mouth only emitted to concede one more analytic reason, "Y-y-your brother snores u-uh really loud."
Laughing softly, the girl nodded, and didn't seem all too surprised for she knew her brother snored rather garishly. Hopping off her bed, Verity walked over to her closet where she retrieved a sleeping bag for the boy.
Making his way further inside the room, Eddie carefully shut the door of her room, and his eyes began to roam around the dark room. The only source of light came from the moon, and a small nightlight situated in a corner.
He had never been inside her room before, considering his mother's strict and over-protective ways to keep ahold of her son. His weary eyes descended on a picture frame positioned aside her lamp on her nightstand. That picture just so happened to be a printed memory of the pair on a trip to the fair last year before the upcoming disappearances of children in Derry.
A simper made its way to his face, remembering the distant memory. Despite that certain day not being the best, in consideration of the Owens girl breaking her arm, the picture brought a comforting and relieving warmth to his heart. That incident that ruined their day hadn't been on accident either. Henry Bowers had purposely pushed her off the monkey bars during one of his elusive fits. Nothing's ever an accident when it comes to Henry.
"Okay, here you go." Her tender voice broke him away from his trance, as he whirled around to face her.
"Thanks. A-and I'm sorry for waking you," the boy apologized, the resonance of his voice quavering under her diligent stare.
