[ richie drops his head on the tops of his knees, eyes squeezed shut. he can feel his face twisting in another effort not to cry out loud or lose his shit on the phone, the hard ache in his chest all cracked open and filling him with this liquid longing. ]

Eds—

[ the nickname, even now. one of the first claims richie ever staked on him before he knew what it meant to want someone bad enough to mark them like that, to hold onto them fast with limbs and teeth.

his whole life he's only wanted one thing. even when he didn't remember eddie, he wanted him. wanted him when he was small and slim and loud, wants the way he is now, rangy, scarred, even louder, just as perfect as he's always been, the vanishing point of all richie knows of desire. before derry richie figured the long years had frozen him over for good, but he knows better now, burns so fucking hard and hot he could give a fuck if anybody else gets hurt.

he's gripping his phone so tight the case is creaking in his hand. the room isn't spinning anymore. it's just dark, and richie is by himself, in his bedroom in los angeles, hugging his knees as if physically bracing his body can keep him from flying apart. ]

I'm so fucking in love with you. I lived my whole life in love with you. I'm gonna die in love with you.