Lover | Richie Tozier

Chapter 38.

Elle
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"So this is it, huh?" Richie planted his feet on the cold sidewalk under him. His face slightly fell with disappointment, not ready to give up this moment so easily.

"This is it," I confirmed, staring up at the residence in front of me. "Home."

Richie's slow eyes burned with despair while following my gaze. With the moon hanging in the sky, his heart seemed to weigh him down just the same. Home. Fuck. Imagine having a stable fucking home.

The crickets relived their final moments in the bushes planted behind the carefully tended gardens, singing one last time before September came and drew them away until the warm weather rose again next year. They weren't chirps of silence or awkwardness like in those truism cartoons, though. More like a gentle ringing in the background that would take you back to many summers ago when you closed your eyes and really thought about it.

Our hands were still intertwined and I could feel how his thumb hooked onto mine tightly so our palms would press closer together. I looked down, wondering if I should break the embrace or not.

"Thanks for walking me home," I looked up at him. In the light that flowed from the few stars inspiring the night sky, the bruise that was already fading around his eye was nearly transparent. The color of his skin was beginning to settle down again. A sure sign that everything heals, and so will he.

Richie cleared his throat, clearly bringing himself back down from falling into the depths of his thoughts. "Of course. I promise I'd protect you from killer clowns, didn't I?"

My eyes rolled back fluently; like they were made only for responding to him. "You're an asshole," I broke our bonded hands to push his shoulder sarcastically for what seemed to be the fifth time that night. "It's a genuine fear! A methhead could like, kill us or kidnap us or something and he'd be dressed as a clown so nobody would know."

With every word that I spoke, his mouth would continue to upturn. "I think a clown kidnapping two teenagers is a little hard to miss, Lively."

I grinned, trying to bite back on the urge to expose the speed at which my heart was going. The nickname... didn't you hate it when Bev called you by a nickname? "Alright. I'll be sure to tell the police department not to look for you, then. No worries."

His face was now glowing in a full blown smile. 

The stars above seemed to explode with a supernova of silence, and no voices but those of the crickets were between us.

He cleared his throat suddenly. "So uh," Richie let the rubber outsole of his shoe dig into the ground, twisting and turning it until it scuffed up the tips more than they already were. "I just wanted to thank you."

My head tilted to the side, squinting a little to shield them from the lunar light. "Yeah? For what?"

"You know, like..." he trailed off, letting his voice linger but apprehensively trying to pull it back in.

More twisting of his shoe.

Was he... nervous?

"Just everything that you've done for me recently. I'm a God damn pain in the ass, I know that, but you handle it with grace." His hand sat on top of the wooden post that supported the rail leading up to the front steps. The way the light reflected off of it made his wounds look fresh again. And that hurt.

"You're not a pain in the ass, Richie. There's no way in fuck I would waste my time on someone who was. Is Bill a pain in the ass?"

"No."

"Is Stan?"

"No."

"Mike?"

"No."

"What about Eddie?"

"Kind of."

A quiet laugh emitted through my lips. "The point is, you're no different than they are. Not everybody is against you, Trashmouth. I can promise you that."

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I could still hear his heart beating through his chest, practically trying to escape.

His hand slipped off the post, shoving themselves back into his pockets. "It's fucking hard to believe that sometimes," he admitted.

I made my way onto the steps, carrying myself further away from him as I did. "A belief is only a thought that we've continued to think. So stop thinking that way, Tozier. At least not about me, because it's the complete opposite of the truth."

He watched me with intent, the sadness of departure touching his eyes. "It's fine, because I hate you too anyways," he joked, a smirk crossing his face.

My eyebrow raised. "Really? If that's true, don't hold my hand next time," I shrugged back. There was a prominent tone of teasing in my voice that wanted to make sure he could hear it instead of taking it as a serious punch. The front door opened and I took my place inside.

"I need you to stop being so afraid of clowns then," he lifted his shoulders. His lips grew into a complete smile.

My hands began closing the door in front of me. I mirrored his grin.

"And I need you to stop being so afraid of the fact that somebody might actually like you. Goodnight, Richie."