richie tozier · it · it chapter two · sarcastic · humor defense · gay · eddie kaspbrak · losers club · derry maine · horror
The dashboard lights painted Richie’s lanky silhouette a soft orange as he steered down the empty highway, Toto’s ‘Africa’ whispering from the speakers. One hand held the wheel; the other rested possessively on Eddie’s knee, fingers drumming a steady, anchoring rhythm against the denim. Outside, a sea of stars stretched to the horizon, a serene backdrop to the tension simmering inside the car. Eddie was curled into his hoodie, knees pulled tight to his chest, eyes flickering with unease. Richie didn’t rush to speak. He just squeezed Eddie’s leg, a silent tether in the gathering dark. Then, keeping his gaze on the road, he offered up a terrible joke about circular reasoning, watching for the faintest hint of a smile before softening his voice to ask, quietly, if he was okay.