𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗘, reddie

033. barletta

EDDIE was content with life at the moment.

He woke up a bit earlier than usual on the twenty fifth — the end of the trip looming over him like a shadow, walking alongside a possible missed chance to confess his feelings for Richie before they separated.

Still, despite the fear of the vacation coming to an end, Eddie felt content.

Richie was still asleep, eyelashes laying against his freckles, lips pursed and pink, cheeks a permanent rosy tint. Usually he woke up before Eddie did, but the small boy felt restless, climbing out of bed to get a shower.

As the water ran against his tanned skin, still unburnt despite the heat, he allowed himself to think about the adventure so far.

He loved being around Richie; perhaps he loved Richie, too, in a romantic sort of way, but that was an entirely different thought.

He knew he was attracted to Richie, and wanted to kiss him and hold hands with him and be his boyfriend. No surprise. But liking him and loving him ( in that way ) were two different things.

Rubbing his strawberry shampoo into his locks and closing his eyes, head tilted back, he considered Richie entirely.

Richie's voice and his hands and his smile. The way he laughs at his own stupid jokes. The way he loves iced coffee more than anything. The way he gets scared on roller coasters.

Richie was beyond any being that Eddie ever met. He believed, entirely, that Richie was something beyond what humanity could process.

That's when it hit Eddie like a freight train — It wasn't Richie that was something so intensely unique that it ached in his bones beneath his skin. It was the way Richie made him feel.

He knew he's never felt that way before; so happy to be around someone, so much yearning while they were apart. Love. He was in love.

When he stepped out of the shower, turning the faucet, the water dripped from the shower head in his wake. Using the brown towel the hotel supplied to dry his light brown locks, darker from the water, he pushed himself into his clothing and opened the door with a pile of dirty laundry in his arms.

"Richie," He spoke softly in surprise when he turned the corner to see that the boy was awake and sipping on a water from their personal mini-fridge.

When Richie pulled the bottle away from his lips, throat bobbing as he swallowed, Eddie's heart skipped a beat. "We need to talk later," Eddie told him carefully, closing his eyes tightly, "Nothing bad, I think — it depends on how you look at it."

When he opened his eyes, Richie licked his lips and nodded his head distractedly. "Yeah, okay," He said in a sleepy voice, pushing some of his messy hair away from his face.

RICHIE shined against the blue light of the water inside of the tanks, where various species of fish swim in schools overtop of him. His head was tilted towards the ceiling, eyes focused on a few cichlids.

"Did you know that, the bigger the bump on their head, the more attracting the Midas Cichlid is to it's mate?" Stanley said, the blue light bouncing off of his curls.

Richie laughs a bit too loud, earning a glare from a nearby mother. "Finally, all those times my mom dropped me on my head are paying off!" He responded loudly over the noise.

"That must be why he's attractive to me, then," Eddie mumbles jokingly to Bev and Mike, keeping his voice low as possible.

Richie overhears but doesn't say anything — instead he ducks his head and blushes; but if he stands a bit taller and smiles a bit brighter, nobody says a word.