This was all way too much for Richie's brain to wrap around -- between the -- this -- and now the whole Steve slamming back into him and nearly barreling Richie over thing (and honestly, they were about the same height, but Steve must have had -- shit, 80 more pounds of muscle on him, so it made a bit of a damn difference) it was just a lot.
So, obviously, he focused on the only thing he could in a time like this. "Darn it?" He repeated in question, hand moving up to adjust glasses that -- weren't fucking there. Right. How had he forgotten that? "Let's not even unpack that right now," he decided, because Steve not swearing shouldn't have been the thing that got to him. "Let's just -- uh. What just happened? Just now?" He squinted out into the hallways, but didn't see anything beyond blurry walls.