“He wouldn’t lie about that.” And Eddie felt like he didn’t have to say Richie’s name here because they both knew who he was talking about. So if Richie said that Bill was nice then he probably was and, under normal circumstances, Eddie probably would’ve thanked the guy for just being around. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Who knew? It kind of hurt a little to think that, not only, had he had to figure out he’d died on his own but he’d had to deal with that on his own as well. There had been no “secret optometrist” for him to run off to and flirt with in order to just forget about it or to get away from the problem for a while.
Had Bill offended him? He didn’t think so. Maybe. He actually didn’t know what he’d been feeling besides a whole lot of annoyed and insecure. Now, knowing that Bill had words other than ‘love’ in his vocabulary wasn’t actually helping with the whole annoyed and insecure thing. It was adding to it which, in turn, was adding to that thing he felt in his chest. That uncomfortable flurry of anxiety in his chest he’d always assumed was asthma. Maybe he should take his chances through that drugstore door again. Maybe an inhaler wasn’t a bad idea. No one had to know.
“Which part wasn’t your intention?” He asked, not sure what Bill was referring to. Was this about all the flirting he did with Richie and how that made Eddie uncomfortable? Was this about Eddie’s general discomfort now? Maybe it didn’t matter. Eddie let out a breath and shook his head. “It’s not your fault.” He decided. Not the flirting and not the way Eddie was withdrawn from all but a select group of people now.