[ His thoughts blur, hazy with alcohol. Hold me to it, hold me, please please please keep me right here. If Eddie turned his head, he could kiss Richie Tozier — an idea that sparks and fizzles, doused by ever present, sensible part of his brain that assures him they’re recovering from shared trauma, of nearly losing the other and themselves. And Eddie has just ruined his longest relationship outside the losers — without much family to speak of, that makes him alone in this world.
At least outside the group. Maybe outside this room. Don’t put that on Richie. Being drunk and lonely isn’t cute, at his age. And he’s never — it’s always been women, besides. Except for when it wasn’t. Twice. Men he let get too close, tall and grinning, with enough curls to slide his hand into, before his nerves got the better of him. You can’t afford that: The risk or the loss. Eddie’s so busy talking himself off the ledge that he forgets to reply, belatedly offering a contextless and quiet, ]
Thanks, Rich.
[ It’s a shame, but he misses most of the movie, spending half of it working himself into knots and the other half asleep, nose turned into the crook of Richie’s neck. ]
no subject
At least outside the group. Maybe outside this room. Don’t put that on Richie. Being drunk and lonely isn’t cute, at his age. And he’s never — it’s always been women, besides. Except for when it wasn’t. Twice. Men he let get too close, tall and grinning, with enough curls to slide his hand into, before his nerves got the better of him. You can’t afford that: The risk or the loss. Eddie’s so busy talking himself off the ledge that he forgets to reply, belatedly offering a contextless and quiet, ]
Thanks, Rich.
[ It’s a shame, but he misses most of the movie, spending half of it working himself into knots and the other half asleep, nose turned into the crook of Richie’s neck. ]