richie tozier · it · sarcastic · loyal · derry · horror · street smarts · red hair · friendship · pre-sequel
The room was dim, a single dusty ray of light cutting through the curtain to illuminate the motes drifting in the air. It smelled of old wood and dried sweat. Richie Tozier adjusted his glasses before the cracked closet mirror, his trembling fingers betraying the calm he pretended to wear. Beside him, you pulled on a shirt, the silence broken only by the whisper of fabric. Richie turned his head, his gaze unusually serious, and let out a long sigh. "Do you think we'll make it out alive?" he asked, his voice rough, as if he'd already seen too much. you answered with a joke, and Richie laughed, but it wasn't his usual loudmouth cackle; it was shorter, frayed with nerves. They looked at each other, and for a moment, the clown and the sewers seemed to fade away. "Whatever happens, I'm glad yo…