[ there's no real warning or reason to expect a visit from richie after his and eddie's fight over group chat. richie's been silent in the chat for hours now, though if she bothered to ask either of them, bev would find out that eddie and bill have been receiving increasingly strange texts from him for a little while now, but nothing has been sent bev's way in that time.
no, much like his previous unannounced invasion of her room, richie tumbles through her bedroom window by accident, somehow even more of a mess and tangle of limbs than he had been when he was delirious with illness. it would take less than a glance to determine that he's drunk. even more so than he had been at eddie's birthday party, tearful and swaying faintly in front of her.
he squints up at her from his painful sprawl on the floor of beverly's bedroom and squints at her from behind his thick, smudged glasses. ]
... why d'you keep switching windows with Eds, Bev?
[ he asks her with slow, slurred speech, sounding genuinely mystified. ]
[Beverly might sound a little more clipped than usual. She's always been one of the quieter ones for the most part, within the group at least, and maybe Richie is too... whatever it is this time to notice.
Though that doesn't stop Bev from checking him over, crouching down to put a hand to his forehead to be sure.]
...You're drunk.
[It's not the temperature, but she's familiar enough with the smell.]
[ richie is actually pretty well trained to notice the dulcet tones of disappointment or displeasure in a person's voice, thanks to dear old maggs, but he's already so deep in his own self constructed pit of self loathing at this point that it hardly even registers outside of some vague idea that it's the least he deserves at this rate.
he nods along in agreement to her first comment, looking almost pleased with himself as he suggests: ] "Nnnooooooooo Richie's allowed", in letters big enough that even I can see 'em.
[ he leans into her hand like a dog seeking comfort, as brief as the point of contact is, eyes too bright and rimmed with red. far, far too honest in the answer he gives bev for her second observation, voice a low whisper like he's sharing a secret.
because, well, he is. ]
I hate it. The feel of it. I only do it when I hate myself more.
[Bev softens somewhat now that she's seen the state Richie's in. She herself reeks of freshly burned tobacco smoke, despite having a very strict agreement with Eddie not to smoke in the house.
She figured maybe if she angled it out the window, kept her door closed, no one would notice. But the scent still sticks to her thick sweater, sinking into the thickly knit threads. It outlines the edges of her breath as she sighs, frowning at him.]
Richies are allowed if they knock first. [She stops a moment, and adds:] And probably even if they don't. But I'm still not Eddie, so. Sorry.
[She inhales through her nose a little sharply when Richie leans into her hand, but rather than pull it away, she just leaves it there. Stares at him with large eyes, not in surprise but in a mirror of his honesty.]
That's what I do, but with...
[She gestures vaguely, trying to mime "smoking" without actually doing any of the obvious recognizable movements. It's... not very clear.
The thing is, she's been stressed all month, and so she's been chain-smoking much more than her usual in the moments when she can hide away. Mostly out of habit, because like Brianna said when they first met, nobody really cares too much here.]
... [Beverly shifts around so she's sitting beside him on the floor, making sure he's propped up on the wall beneath her window and not falling all over.] This place is somehow... both better and worse than home, huh?
[ the lingering scent of cigarettes is something that richie has long since stopped noticing at this point in his life, honestly. a habit he shares well enough with beverly that he's come to associate it fondly with her. subconsciously.
he knocks agreeably on the floor between them to prove to her that he can. "shave and a haircut", with a little, absent grin. ]
Bev's are still a pretty good surprise, don't feel too bad. More than one eddie would be... a lot to deal with right now. Should probly work my way up to apologizing to him anyway, since I think I owe you one or two. [ since eddie had got him thinking about his old tendency to talk big about girls in a new and troubling light, at least.
richie slumps gratefully against the wall, pressing his head back firmly against it in an effort to work through the dizziness. closes his eyes as he answers her. ]
New problems, self created. Be the clown that ruins your own life, no need to hire out to a third party like Pennywise. It asks for too much on the deposit, probably thinks we should be grateful It's not asking for a leg too.
[It's not a loaded question like it could be. One look at Beverly fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve, but her attention still wholly on Richie, would tell you that she's genuinely confused by that.
Beverly doesn't get apologized to. At least not until recently. And any slight against her by "boys being boys" when they talk about girls in earshot is so normal to her, she can't even recall Richie doing that when she immediately tries to brainstorm anything Richie should say sorry for.]
We already both said sorry about fighting, like... forever ago. Right?
[But she bites her lip and listens, trying very hard to (unsuccessfully) stifle the reflexive gasp at one of Its names. She should be trying to console him, she thinks, about whatever happened with Eddie for them to end up here again. But she looks away instead, fixing her stare on the opposite wall, her fidgeting fingers no longer moving.]
I think... we still need to focus on how to stop It again. I— We brought It here. And instead of thinking about what to do, we're just getting upset about... relationship stuff.
[She's as guilty of it herself. She knows the Deadlights are here; she was one of the first to find them, even. But she's been keeping silent on it since the day it happened.
She blinks finally.]
Shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to... There's a lot going on for all of us.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action; hours after the group chat disaster
no, much like his previous unannounced invasion of her room, richie tumbles through her bedroom window by accident, somehow even more of a mess and tangle of limbs than he had been when he was delirious with illness. it would take less than a glance to determine that he's drunk. even more so than he had been at eddie's birthday party, tearful and swaying faintly in front of her.
he squints up at her from his painful sprawl on the floor of beverly's bedroom and squints at her from behind his thick, smudged glasses. ]
... why d'you keep switching windows with Eds, Bev?
[ he asks her with slow, slurred speech, sounding genuinely mystified. ]
late late late
[Beverly might sound a little more clipped than usual. She's always been one of the quieter ones for the most part, within the group at least, and maybe Richie is too... whatever it is this time to notice.
Though that doesn't stop Bev from checking him over, crouching down to put a hand to his forehead to be sure.]
...You're drunk.
[It's not the temperature, but she's familiar enough with the smell.]
even later, yo cw: self-injury sort of
he nods along in agreement to her first comment, looking almost pleased with himself as he suggests: ] "Nnnooooooooo Richie's allowed", in letters big enough that even I can see 'em.
[ he leans into her hand like a dog seeking comfort, as brief as the point of contact is, eyes too bright and rimmed with red. far, far too honest in the answer he gives bev for her second observation, voice a low whisper like he's sharing a secret.
because, well, he is. ]
I hate it. The feel of it. I only do it when I hate myself more.
cw: underage smoking as well now
She figured maybe if she angled it out the window, kept her door closed, no one would notice. But the scent still sticks to her thick sweater, sinking into the thickly knit threads. It outlines the edges of her breath as she sighs, frowning at him.]
Richies are allowed if they knock first. [She stops a moment, and adds:] And probably even if they don't. But I'm still not Eddie, so. Sorry.
[She inhales through her nose a little sharply when Richie leans into her hand, but rather than pull it away, she just leaves it there. Stares at him with large eyes, not in surprise but in a mirror of his honesty.]
That's what I do, but with...
[She gestures vaguely, trying to mime "smoking" without actually doing any of the obvious recognizable movements. It's... not very clear.
The thing is, she's been stressed all month, and so she's been chain-smoking much more than her usual in the moments when she can hide away. Mostly out of habit, because like Brianna said when they first met, nobody really cares too much here.]
... [Beverly shifts around so she's sitting beside him on the floor, making sure he's propped up on the wall beneath her window and not falling all over.] This place is somehow... both better and worse than home, huh?
cw: underage smoking as well now
he knocks agreeably on the floor between them to prove to her that he can. "shave and a haircut", with a little, absent grin. ]
Bev's are still a pretty good surprise, don't feel too bad. More than one eddie would be... a lot to deal with right now. Should probly work my way up to apologizing to him anyway, since I think I owe you one or two. [ since eddie had got him thinking about his old tendency to talk big about girls in a new and troubling light, at least.
richie slumps gratefully against the wall, pressing his head back firmly against it in an effort to work through the dizziness. closes his eyes as he answers her. ]
New problems, self created. Be the clown that ruins your own life, no need to hire out to a third party like Pennywise. It asks for too much on the deposit, probably thinks we should be grateful It's not asking for a leg too.
no subject
[It's not a loaded question like it could be. One look at Beverly fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve, but her attention still wholly on Richie, would tell you that she's genuinely confused by that.
Beverly doesn't get apologized to. At least not until recently. And any slight against her by "boys being boys" when they talk about girls in earshot is so normal to her, she can't even recall Richie doing that when she immediately tries to brainstorm anything Richie should say sorry for.]
We already both said sorry about fighting, like... forever ago. Right?
[But she bites her lip and listens, trying very hard to (unsuccessfully) stifle the reflexive gasp at one of Its names. She should be trying to console him, she thinks, about whatever happened with Eddie for them to end up here again. But she looks away instead, fixing her stare on the opposite wall, her fidgeting fingers no longer moving.]
I think... we still need to focus on how to stop It again. I— We brought It here. And instead of thinking about what to do, we're just getting upset about... relationship stuff.
[She's as guilty of it herself. She knows the Deadlights are here; she was one of the first to find them, even. But she's been keeping silent on it since the day it happened.
She blinks finally.]
Shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to... There's a lot going on for all of us.