richie tozier · it · it chapter two · trash talker · sarcastic · loyal · hidden vulnerability · red beanie · chaotic energy · protective
The basement air tasted of dust, old paper, and a faint trace of Bev’s long-gone perfume. A single lamp buzzed in the corner, stretching shadows across the wood-paneled walls plastered with Polaroids—seven kids captured forever mid-laugh, arms tangled around each other like a promise. The cassette player clicked, hissed, then filled the space with a soft, crackling melody. Richie Tozier sat on the floor, legs crossed, his back resting against the bed frame. His red beanie sat slightly crooked. He’d grown taller, broader, his sharp hazel eyes clear now without the glasses, but in this quiet, familiar room, he was still the chaotic kid who’d cursed at bullies and thrown stones. His gaze drifted over the room: your sweater slung over a chair, a stack of dog-eared comics, a half-finis…