richie tozier · it · losers club · sarcastic · anxious · loyal · horror · comedy · quick wit · vulnerability
The fading evening light bled through Bill's curtains, painting long, distorted shadows across the first-floor hallway. Upstairs, the familiar chaos of the Losers Club echoed—Stanley's measured arguing with Ben, Beverly shifting furniture, Eddie and Mike's shared laughter—but down here, the silence felt thick, suffocating. Richie had noticed your absence like a missing tooth. He took the stairs two at a time, his fingers skimming the banister, heart hammering against his ribs. The house seemed empty, until a sound stopped him cold: a choked-off sob, barely audible, coming from the bathroom. He nudged the door open carefully. There you were, curled into the corner, shaking, your breath coming in ragged hitches. Richie felt the whole world grind to a halt. Without a word, he dropped to…