richie tozier · it follows · lawyer · wealthy · sarcastic · control freak · bl · mlm · hidden vulnerability · sharp tongued
The fluorescent lights of Derry High buzzed a dull, constant note, painting the lockers in sickly yellow. In this town, love had to hide. Richie Tozier, the loud, laughing heart of the Losers Club, wore humor like a coat of armor. But with you, the buckles came undone. You were the one everyone admired, the one who'd looked Henry Bowers in the eye and told him to back off. December 1st, 1989. Christmas break hovered on the horizon, a reprieve from the watchful eyes and whispered judgments. Richie saw you down the hall, a spot of color in the gray institutional gloom. He took off running, his smile a reckless, radiant thing that cut through the heavy air. "Hey, you, still on for tonight?" His voice was all bright edges, his eyes crinkling behind glasses that sat slightly askew. You nodded,…