Survive the Night [reddie]

3

Bill pulled back with a drawling sigh, his breath warm against Beverly's rosy cheek. A whisper of a giggle escaped her lips as she pulled back further, her eyes ignited with a spark of life with her smile. The dim desk map behind them illuminated an angelic frame around her hair, shining through it like sunlight through a whiskey bottle.
"You're stunning." He murmured, hand shaky as it rose to hold her jaw delicately. Her bright smile lowered to a smirk and she took his other hand in hers, leaning into his touch lazily.
"So I've been told." She cocked a brow at him, earning another small laugh.

Bill continued to smile before a thought struck him, he pressed his lips into a thin line, averting his gaze and sighing through his nose. Beverly's smile fell slowly, her eyes searching his for an answer.
"What is it?"
"I w-wish I could take you out more often," Bill admitted, lowering his hand to her shoulder instead. She placed her other hand over his, cupping her own shoulder, and opened her mouth to interject, but he continued. "It feels like all we do is stay tucked away in bedrooms and b-bedsheets, whether it's here at your aunt's, or at my place, I want to take you out, go to a movie, grab dinner, but who the hell has the money-" he shook his head with a bitter laugh.

"I got a job," she shrugged her shoulders up slowly, bringing both of his hands into her lap. Bill met her gaze again and began to smile slowly. "Short term, out of town, just for winter break,"
"That's great, Bev," he beamed momentarily, "but, you can't p-pay for our dates, that's on me, I'm nn-n-not making you-"
"Hey, I'll barely see you all break, you have to let me shout one date at least," she laughed quietly, furrowing her brows. Bill opened his mouth to retaliate but paused a minute, looking down before glancing back up at her.

"I won't see you at all over break," he muttered, his stormy eyes darting between her crystal irises.
"At all?" she did a slight double take. Bill shook his head, shifting his position a little.
"My family's going on this- cruise, we do a trip every winter break," he explained slowly.
"But you're not gone for all of break are you?" she frowned a little, squeezing his hands gently. Bill nodded guiltily. Beverly sighed, looking down at their hands with searching eyes.

"Well, we'll just have to make up for that time lost," Beverly's face lit up with a smile again, leaning up a little and crawling forward, pushing Bill back down onto the mattress again. Their lips connected in a gentle kiss, his hands curling around her waist and clutching the floral print of her top. The kisses were delicate and flowed effortlessly one after the other, until Bill pulled away with a breathy smile. Beverly gazed at him lovingly for a moment before shifting down his body so her head fit just under his chin, snuggling against his neck and gently kissing along his collar bones before resting.

They lay quietly for a few minutes, Bill's fingers twirling her amber curls absentmindedly, drunk off the buzz provided by her lips on his and her warm breath sizzling his skin.
"I guess I'll be spending a lot of time with my walkman this break," she snickered, Bill shaking his head with a hum.
"I'm sorry Bev-"
"No don't be you dork, I'll still be able to talk with the rest of the old Losers, you know, Rich and I are still pretty tight, Stan's chill, and Eddie never goes anywhere," she laughed almost pitifully, it was a guilt-ridden gesture.
Bill paused a moment, closing his eyes as his fingers still tangled in her hair in a therapeutic fashion.
"We were talking about that the other day, you know he's never left Derry?" he brought up quietly.
"Never? That poor boy, he's more sheltered than Genie Wiley," she muttered under her breath, Bill gasping a little.
"Do not compare him to-" he defended quickly, eyes shooting open before Bev quickly shot a string of apologies.
"Not that bad, we were just learning about her in class is all," she shuddered. "But anyway, we should find a way to let him experience something more than this shitty town, his mother's never gonna take him out of here herself."

Bill nodded in agreement, closing his eyes again and letting a cascade of ideas wash over him, shuffling in his mind like a deck of cards.
"What if there was a way he could come on the cruise?" Bill mumbled, Beverly sitting up slowly and nodding gently.
"Would his mum agree to that?" She countered.
"If it's my parents asking then possibly," he tilted his head with a half smile, gazing up at Beverly.
"Everybody loves Zack and Sharon," she grinned, hooking her arm and swinging it with a hearty laugh, Bill shaking his head and laughing along as he sat up under her, Bev straddling his lap.
"That sounds like a plan Miss Marsh," Bill beamed, pulling her body flush against his as she leaned down to connect their lips once more.
"It does indeed..."

———

"Boy! This ain't some slowpoke competition, get those ropes pronto!" A gruff voice roared, Mike cringing slightly and speeding up his pace along the deck.
"Y-yeah, sorry, going! C'mon chip," he sighed, waving his dog along, Mr. Chips.
The dog trotted after Mike proudly as they weaved their way down the jetty. Mike broke into a jog, finally arriving at a wooden shed  and the start of the jetty and tugging the door open with a grunt, the panel swinging out and smacking against the wood wall harshly. Inside reeked of fish, the floor permanently stained red, but it was all sights and smells he'd grown accustomed to through his time working at the wharf with his grandfather.
"Ropes, Mr. Chips," Mike muttered, tugging a dainty string off to the side and causing a dim bulb to flicker on. Mike approached the hooks on the back wall and began heaving down loops of rope, kneeling to hoop some over Mr. Chips' head like a necklace while he hung the others over his shoulder. "Good boy, go!" he shooed the dog who quickly obeyed and shot down the jetty like a bullet, sprinting excitedly.

Mike turned off the light, closed the door and jogged after his dog. Mr. Chips was a good dog, he was alike to Mike in many ways. They were efficient and resourceful in their work, never talked (or barked) back, just did what they were told and did it well. He arrived at the end of the jetty and began passing off the ropes to the men equipping this fishing boat. His grandfather, the owner of the aforementioned 'gruff voice', was orchestrating the offload of this morning's catches. Piles of dead fish slid around inside crates coming off the boat, the sight chilling.

"We best be gettin' our work done here before that ghost ship turns up," one of the fishermen snickered as he accepted a rope from Mike, his comment directed at one of his mates who responded in an amused fashion.
"Ghost ship?" Mike cocked a brow, catching a sharp glance from his grandfather off to the side that told him to shut up.
"That big cruise ship docking here, start of winter, shit's haunted," the other fisherman responded with a low rumbling chuckle.
"Haunted?" Mike continued, intrigued, but he was snapped out of it when a rubber-gloved hand snatched the last rope from him.
"Don't be filling the boy's head with silly fairytales from sea-shanties, he has work to do, and so do you," his grandfather huffed, pushing past Mike dominantly to board the boat.

Once his grandfather was gone Mike looked around for those same fisherman, hoping to ask more about the mysterious haunted ship, but they had disappeared. He glanced at Mr. Chips with an expression of confusion, the dog only staring back at him blankly.
'Grandpa's probably right, there's no such thing,' he thought to himself, shaking his head and turning to walk back down the jetty, Mr. Chips in tow.