Entry tags:

beverly marsh, richie tozier

Who: Richie Tozier and Beverly Marsh
What: Finding Beverly (some shoes)
Where: All about town
When: November 28th

Beverly fucking Marsh.

Richie went half wild over finding her on the network posts and went the rest of the way wild pulling on a sweater and his own shoes, ransacking his own clothing to find something warm for her (one of the Ugly Christmas Sweaters he’d been on a mission for the other day) and realizing he’d have no kind of shoes that would even remotely fit her because even if Beverly was the biggest badass the world had ever seen, it was in a tiny package and no men’s size shoe was going to do her any kind of favor.

Not even Eddie’s much smaller ones.

He probably should have said something before he left. To the rest of the Losers. But every time one of them showed up here, Richie found himself in such a state of panic and disbelief (and worry, maybe, that if he didn’t move fast enough, they wouldn’t actually be there when he arrived) that his tunnel vision didn’t allow for pit stops of any kind. They could yell at him later, but assuming he found Bev — real, alive, et cetera, they wouldn’t have a reason to yell anyway.

The snow was crunchy beneath his shoes, and Richie was a mess of wind blown hair and slightly askew glasses and it didn’t matter for even one fucking second because the moment he spotted out Beverly in the town square looking a little like — well. Exactly like he’d seen her last — he had to pause for one long beat and remind himself that breathing was what all the cool kids were doing these days.

Beverly fucking Marsh. Wet, shoeless, looking miserable and scared. Richie had never seen a woman more beautiful than her just now, or maybe ever. He wondered, vaguely, if all his constant thinking about her (and the rest of them, all of Them) had brought her here. A whoosh of breath escaped his lungs and he fixed on the stupidest fucking smile he’d ever worn. “That’s not a good look,” he said, ever complimentary.