how we were ✰ 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 ¹

six

"and in the end we're all just humans.. drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness."
— f. scott fitzgerald

richie spent most of his life running. running from his problems, from the past. yet the young boy could never seem to run from the things that hurt him the most. he supposed that this tainted love was all that he deserved. he could never differentiate between the gentle caress of love and the calloused hands of hate. such was life.

so richie sat on the worn out wooden piano bench in henry bowers' living room, his fingers danced across the keys in an uncoordinated manner. his mother had made him take piano lessons for all of two years until he threw so many fits about going, she finally gave up. richie wished he would have kept going. he didn't even have that small memory to remember her by, he had fucked that up too.

henry was seated beside him, a rare goofy smile laced across his features as he watched richie fumble with the keys. their shoulders were pressed against one another's, a gentle caress that let richie know this was all real. hen was here. hen was with him. their shared warmth seeped through richie's bones all at once, making him shiver and lean into the comforting embrace. a heartbeat passed before henry was leaning into him too.

"—no, no!" came the amused shout of henry as he curled his hands over richie's, "your hands are all over the place, here—" large hands covered smaller ones and henry adjusted richie's form to better fit the expanse of the piano. "who taught you? were they tone deaf?" the joking tone in his voice radiated a familiar warmth throughout richie's body.

it reminded him that henry bowers could be like this. henry bowers could love deeply and be loved in return.

"well," richie huffed, glancing out of the corner of his eye to the boy seated beside him, "she was pretty old. every time i told her that i thought we had chemistry she just seemed to ignore me." henry rolled his eyes and bumped their shoulders together, a small huff of laughter falling unbidden from his lips. the sound made richie smile. henry's laugh was a dream and richie melted into it.

"then maybe she was actually deaf, rich. ever think of that?" his voice was gentle and his smile was soft and fuck. richie wanted to see that smile forever. henry was still staring down at their hands on the piano, but all richie could look at was him. henry bowers was truly one of the most under cherished individuals richie had ever bore witness to.

the way a few stray blond strands fell into henry's light eyes made richie's breath catch. he had to clasp his hands in his lap to prevent the instinct of brushing the hair from his eyes. and yet, for some strange reason that richie couldn't fathom, henry never acknowledged how truly beautiful he was. the reddened tinge that spread across his cheeks when the heat flushed his skin. the feel of his calloused palms spread around richie's wrists as he held him close, touch burning through the fabric of his sleeves. the way his breath caught whenever richie pulled their lips apart, lips parted and swollen and real. how could he not see what richie saw?

as he stared at henry, the image of chocolate locks curled at the ends and deep brown eyes narrowed at him lanced across richie's mind. eddie kaspbrak, with his freckles that formed constellations and honey skin that sent richie in a tailspin. guilt crept up his throat and threatened to choke him with the newfound knowledge that eddie was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. no one, not even the subtle spark of perfection that was henry bowers could compare.

henry had stopped playing, eyes shifting to lock on richie's hazy blue gaze. richie couldn't help but wonder about this being the situation the pair always found themselves brought to a stalemate in. any second now, henry would lean forward, roughly press his lips against richie's, showing the younger boy the love he had always been so greedy to have.