there's some unspoken guilt in being the reason someone is being hurt.
richie tugged at the roots of his hair, his knee bouncing up and down. he glanced out his window at the seemingly never-ending darkness. like a car barreling down a highway with the headlights turned off, richie felt sick and at fault.
all because he had loved stanley uris.
and loved was a strong word. fuck, he hadn't even gotten the chance to love him before god punished stanley for richie's sins. liking richie back was the reason all of their friends now hated stanley. liking richie back was the reason his family was so cruel to him.
richie hated imagining what must go on in that house.
liking richie back was the reason stanley never got any sleep.
it was all richie's fault.
richie turned his music up until he could no longer hear the drip of the broken drainpipe outside his window as it poured down.
and to think, stanley had gotten a moment of peace, a party where he could just drink a little and be with other people again (maybe make new friends), and richie had ruined it again. he'd subjected stanley to bill's wrath, and in turn richie now had a black eye from one of his best friends.
all because he'd liked a boy. it wasn't fair.
his mom had asked him about his appearance when he'd gotten home, as it was obvious he wasn't well. beverly had basically needed to drag him in the door, half asleep and half passed out, his eyelashes feeling so heavy that he couldn't see. they'd been doing rather smoothly until richie needed to go up stairs, in which he ran into the railing directly. he felt a pain like a spear passing through his head, and had lied down on the stairs.
it took beverly about five minutes to get him to stand up again, and by this time his mother had come to investigate. she stood at the top of the stairs and looked down in concern.
"what on earth happened?" she had asked, beverly sighing as richie spoke through the pain of a split bottom lip.
"i fought bill. tell you 'n morning," he mumbled, then grasping the railing for dear life, stumbled his way up the stairs. naturally, beverly decided it was time for her departure and wished mrs. tozier goodbyes before leaving.
even more naturally, mrs. tozier did not let richie leave it at that, and had opened his door while he was getting into bed. she frowned at him tossing his jeans and shoes off so carelessly, but said nothing.
"what did you and bill fight about? it must have been serious." she had said. richie rolled over to his other side.
not facing her, richie had wanted to cry.
"stan."
"oh, darling,"
yeah. and now here he was, thinking about how even the mere mention of stanley had caused him mom to understand, the way none of the losers club ever could. he hadn't even told her everything he'd seen.
he wanted to cry again, now, hours later.
he stared out the window again and began scratching his thigh. maybe this was god's way of telling richie to give up on love. give up on stanley, maybe.
never.
oh, darling, it's okay. you only ruined his life. you only took everything good away from him. you only subjected him to hell in his own bedroom because you wanted him so bad. oh, oh darling, it's alright, we all sin, you just found lust in its strongest form and snorted it like a drug, that's all.
it's okay, you only made him want to come out because you just couldn't handle having him in privacy. oh darling, you know he was only affectionate in public to please you. he didn't want to.
richie ripped at his roots further, and yelped when he actually pulled some hairs out of his head.
oh darling, it's okay, you only condemned him to silence yet again.
richie had never actually asked why stanley never used to speak, other than the day they originally met. he figured it was probably just a weird personal thing, and he hadn't been really interested in weird personal things (not yet, anyway).
now though, richie wondered if it was for his parents. maybe if he spoke less, he'd get in less trouble. less chance for trouble.
he probably wishes he never met you
