It (2017) | Imagines + Preferences

R.T|Treehouse

Your POV

"Hey Mr. Smith, is Charlie in his room?"

"Yeah, you can go ahead. And you ton't have to call me Mr. Smith."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks Mr. Smith!"

I smiled as I climbed the stairs to Charlie's room, and I smiled as I knocked on the door. And I smiled as I turned the handle after getting no reply.

I was always known as the person who was always happy- I wasn't necessarily always smiley and sunshiney, but I was never really in a bad mood. Up until now.

I wasn't smiling when I opened the door.

I wasn't smiling when I saw my boyfriend of two years on top of Greta Keene, sucking her face off.

And I wasn't happy when I left the room. I wasn't happy when I left the house, or when I went home, or when I called my best friend of six years to come over to my house and dry my fucking tears, because I couldn't do it myself.

And I wasn't happy when his mother picked up and said he'd run away.

After that call, I grabbed one of Richie's hoodies and a pair of sweats and put them on. I grabbed a backpack with two water bottles, two sandwiches, and some chips. I threw a blanket in- just in case we were cold.

'We' being me and Richie. I knew exactly where he'd gone, and I knew he'd be safe as he always was. I don't usually sneak out like this, but I needed my best friend right now, more than ever.

So I jumped out my window, which thankfully was only a few feet up, and ran down the street, towards the quarry.

I saw Richie sitting, dangling his feet off the edge of the cliff.

I sat down next to him, setting my bag next to me, "Hey Rich."

"Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be with Charlie tonight?" Richie asked, looking over to me with droopy eyes.

"Yeah, I was supposed to, but... He was busy." I said. I was hesitant to tell Richie about Greta, I knew he'd be beyond angry.

"Busy with what? You planned this last night and he said he was free."

"Greta."

"Busy with Gre- He fucking chested on you?"

I nodded, and grabbed Richie's arm when he tried to get up, "Stay. Please."

He looked at me for a moment before sitting down, not breaking eye contact. He then put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug, and suddenly the feelings came all at once and I cried into his shoulder.

"You shouldn't be wasting your tears on that jackass." Richie's voice came as a mumble, "You don't deserve this."

"It's my fault for believing him when he said they were only friends." I'd calmed by now, but I liked being in Richie's arms.

"None of this is your fault. If he can't see how great you are, then it's his loss." Richie replied, mindlessly playing with my hair, "You deserve so much better than him."

I said nothing, but I guess Richie knew that I understood, because he said nothing for a few minutes.

"Wanna go to the treehouse?" He questioned. I was half asleep in his arms, and I think he must've realized that.

"Mhm, I brought a blanket." I muttered, waiting a moment before I got up.

Richie beat me to grabbing my bag but I didn't object, I just began walking towards the treehouse we made three years ago. The only ones who knew about it were us and the Losers, since it was concealed well by branches and leaves.

By the time we got up into the tree house and pulled the blanket out, I was tired as hell. Richie laid down before me, and I took the opportunity to use him as a pillow, and for warmth.

He pulled the blanket over the two of us, and the last thing I heard before I fell asleep was a mumbled, 'I love you'.

And in the morning, when I woke up, I realized I was in love with the boy who's hoodie and arms I was wrapped in. I realized that I'd been in love with him for three years.

Richie was awake when I woke up. He was just looking at the ceiling, still holding me tightly as if I would disappear if he let go of me.

"Richie?"

"Oh, hey, good morning Y/n."

"Good morning. I love you."

"I love you too you weirdo."

"No. Like I- I'm in love with you, Richie. I think I have been for a while."

"You- oh. Oh." Richie sat up, gently shoving me off his chest but still holding my waist, "Can I do something real quick?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Can I kiss you?"

"I dunno, can you?"

"Fuck you."

"You would."

"Yeah."

"Richie!"