𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

✩ 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎? ~ 𝚎.𝚔. ✩

pairing: eddie kaspbrak x (fem)reader

warnings: mild cursing

word count: 3422

song preference: yellow, coldplay

requested?  [yes] [no]

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ [ɴᴀᴍᴇ]'ꜱ room was white. It was just like every other ceiling in her neighborhood. She wanted to change it. She wanted to paint it bright yellow, soft pink, army green, and muddy blue. She wanted to make it stand out, but God forbid that anything else change nowadays. She lay spread eagle on her bed, her limbs starfished around her like a firecracker. She stared at her boring white ceiling. Her boring white ceiling stared back at her. Eventually she lost the contest and broke her gaze, blinking a few times to moisten her dried eyes. They tracked to the calendar on the wall next to her bed.

"September 10," she mumbled under her breath. [Name]'s eyes slipped to the window next to the calendar and saw the sun glowing in the distance. It was still early out— probably no later than four-thirty in the afternoon. Her eyes shut again. She wanted to erase the things she had seen only a month previous. She wanted to forget it all.

But then, she would forget Eddie. She didn't want to forget Eddie.

The phone on her bedside table rang. [Name]'s eyelids twitched a few times before she snatched the phone from its cradle. It had only rang twice, but it was too loud in that quiet of a room.

"Hello?" she sighed over the phone. Everything felt bleak, and hearing her own voice echo around her room in something higher than a whisper proved this further.

"It's Bill. A-are you free right now?"

At the sound of his voice, her palm began to throb. The cut had healed a little, but she still kept the wound dressed. It was what Eddie would have done, right? She hadn't heard from the germaphobe— or any of the other Losers, for that matter— and hearing Bill's voice jolted her heart back awake.

"Um. I guess." She didn't have to guess. She had been free since July. Her parents had given up on containing their rambunctious daughter. They had recognized her suddenly gray personality, but decided it was a mood swing. She would be fourteen in October, after all. Teenagers went through mood swings all the time. That was normal.

"Cool. E-Eddie, Richie, Stan and I are g-going to have a sleepover. The o-others couldn't come." [Name] wondered why Bill had to excuse their other friends. She wouldn't have cared anyway. She wanted some normalcy in her life. The five of them had sleepovers all the time before Ben or Mike or Beverly came into the picture. She wanted to talk with her friends like she used to. She wanted to throw popcorn at Richie and tell each other their secrets long after the lights had gone out.

"I assume I'm invited," [Name] murmured. Her voice was low and flat. On the other side of the line, Bill's eyebrows pulled taut in the middle of his forehead. He wondered if his friend was slipping away, bit by bit.

"O-of course. Come over at five." [Name] hummed and then put the phone softly into its cradle again. She sighed and sat up, trudging over to her door and opening it. Her parent's room was down the hall. It was only a few feet, but it felt like she was dragging fifty pounds with her.

"Mom?" she called, peeking into her parents room. Her mother was sitting on her bed, her eyes narrowed as she traced a finger down the pages of a book. Her mother never read. [Name] almost said something, but she didn't; she just waited for her mother to look up and ask her what was wrong.