- "Come on," Ritchie said then, surprised, rubbing his aching cheek.
- I'm sorry," Eddie said briefly and quickly, breathing deeply.
Ritchie was expecting to hear the characteristic "bubblegum," but he wasn't and wasn't there. Eddie was breathing deeply and clearly not going to calm down anytime soon, but he never had a seizure. With his eyes rubbed, Ritchie gently fell to his squat and began to snoop around the ground, trying to find his glasses. Eddie slipped a blurry spot next to him, and Ritchie thought that he was completely offended and sank home, leaving him alone.
- Here," he said, leaning over.
Ritchie couldn't help but shudder and then reached out and grabbed him. Eddie's wrist was as thin and smooth as silk. This was the second time that he had lost track. Casprack grabbed his arm carefully, turned his palm up and put dusty glasses on it. His hands were surprisingly soft and gentle.
Ritchie immediately took the glasses off and wiped them off against the hem of his shirt. He put it on again and looked up at Eddie from below. And he got lost. It was something they were always discussing in literature when they were taking apart another boring novel.
It was a love affair.
A love that had become a love that had become a love without being noticed or noticed.
Ritchie shook his head. Now all these memories were unnecessary and only interfered. When he woke up, he tried to fit into the conversation and heard only one thing:
- ...Pennywise...
And the world turned upside down.
* * *
Loving Eddie seemed like the worst and most beautiful thing at the same time. Before him, all the boys were just pretty to him, so Ritchie did not seek to disassemble these feelings into components. He was an ordinary child who could like the same ordinary child. Everything. He just wanted to walk with them, play and talk. With Eddie, he wanted the same thing, but much more.
- Y-you ever kissed a c-kiss? - Bill once asked when Bev was late, and there was nothing to do.
The question was awkward and intimate, so many people were embarrassed and began to complain. Even Bill blushed, even though he had made it clear.
Eddie, the red one, nodded quickly with his eyes stolen, and then said:
- Yes, he did.
Then Ritchie almost had the ground under his feet.
- Did he really go with his mommy? - He asked, laughing, why he got a poke from Mike. - Yes, for what?
The subject immediately curled up, and Ritchie still had that timid "yes. Hell, who in their right mind could kiss that loser, he thought he was upset, pressing his lips. After a quick glance at Eddie, Ritchie froze, stopping at his lips: they were pale pinkish, small, and sometimes shiny with moisture when Casprack licked them or drank from a bottle.
To the unspoken question: "Who could kiss this loser" was the answer - "I". Ritchie wanted to kiss him, but... he couldn't. He was also afraid.
I was afraid of myself, my reaction and Eddie's reaction, so I was just closing myself off more, preferring to joke and translate the subject.
In all this time, Eddie was his first and only love.
Ritchie was standing on the hotel's shared balcony smoking. Ritchie wanted to escape from this place. The previous relief he had experienced had dissolved, leaving behind a bitter and frightening residue. Derry scared him. The feeling of home had faded away, and cold detachment and fear had replaced it. Fear that he would never leave again when he returned. His hands were shaking, so the cigarette filter didn't go straight into his mouth.
The door opened and Eddie showed up on the doorstep.
- Why aren't you sleeping? - Ritchie asked, tightening and straightening his back.
- Memories..." the man answered vaguely, coming closer to the fence.
Ritchie agreed with him in his mind. Memories. Today, they really bothered him more than usual. He couldn't sleep, and now he was standing on the hotel's common balcony, smoking a cigarette that Bev had pulled down, and he was walking in his glasses at normal times. I didn't want to get drunk next to them, I didn't want to get drunk next to Eddie, otherwise something irreparable could have happened.
At some point, Ritchie realized that he was more afraid of it than fucking Pennywise and his tricks.
Eddie seemed the same, but a little older. And even calmer. Black hair with no hint of gray hair was neatly styled, face shaved clean, red jacket smoothly ironed. All of it was neat and perfect. Just like in childhood, only now he was either watching himself or his wife.
His wife...
Ritchie turned his back and took a deep breath and coughed up.
- Damn it.
Eddie, the angry and compassionate Eddie, was there to knock on his back, but Tosier stopped him.
- Don't, it's all right.
Although it was definitely not so.
Eddie pulled away, but he didn't back off. He leaned against the side of his forearm, staring at the man's face across the street.
- Something wrong? - He asked, squinting his eyes slightly to catch every subtle detail.
- No," Ritchie said ciplo, "it's all right, it's just... memories..." He also said vaguely, finally translating Eddie's gaze. But not in the eyes, but somewhere in the nose bridge. It was safer that way.
Eddie seemed satisfied with this answer, nodded several times and looked at a dark street that wasn't lit with lanterns. He exhaled heavily, he said:
- It's so strange," he looked at the sky without a star, "that we hadn't seen each other in twenty-seven years, but as if we had just said goodbye yesterday. But what's stranger is that before I came to Derry, I almost didn't remember you.
Ritchie nodded.
to be continued...