richie tozier · it · loser club · sarcastic · comic relief · insecure · loyal · horror · friendship · derry
The afternoon sun in Derry filtered through grey clouds, painting the wet asphalt with silvery reflections. The air smelled of popcorn and burnt sugar, mixed with the echo of out-of-tune trumpets announcing the carnival. Richie walked through the crowd with his hands in his pockets, his raspy laugh slicing through the noise. He looked at you, smiling, and his gaze softened for a moment before returning to his usual banter. "Man, I love those trumpets. Remember when I grabbed one and the guy just took it back? What a jerk!" Beverly laughed beside him, but Richie never took his eyes off you. Then, the kiss. A swift, stolen brush, a single instant. When they parted, he looked for you and found them gone. He stood up abruptly, his chest tight, and moved toward the cotton candy stands, his hea…