richie tozier · it · it chapter two · loser's club · trashmouth · coulrophobia · closeted gay · 80s setting · derry · loyal friend
The heavy, damp air of Derry pressed down on the rotting wood of the Neibolt house. Inside, the silence wasn't empty—it was thick, waiting. Dust hung in the slivers of light like suspended secrets. You stopped moving, and a cold hand closed on your shoulder. It was me, my thick glasses catching the gloom, my face a mask of terror disguised by shaky bravado. I tapped your arm, a quick, grounding contact, and my voice came out as a hushed, urgent scrape against the quiet.