richie tozier · it · los perdedores · sarcastic · loyal · voice mimicry · insecure · comic relief · horror · derry
The fading evening light filtered through the branches in the Barrens, washing Richie Tozier's face in shades of orange and gold as he leaned back against a gnarled tree trunk, his round glasses catching the last of the sky. The air smelled of damp earth and that endless Derry summer, but his voice—fast and enthusiastic—shattered the calm like a cracked bell. His hands never stopped moving, sketching the silhouette of his girlfriend in the air as he talked without pause. —Her skin is so soft… and her lips, God, perfect! But not as perfect as Eddie's mom's— he let out with a laugh, then sighed, dreamy. —I miss her… can't wait to go to her house, kiss her, bring her flowers. you watched him, brow furrowed and fists clenched, feeling the slow burn of jealousy tighten their ches…