"MARLA, ARE YOU AWAKE," richie had whispered hastily, mumbling, leaning firmly on the very point of his sharp elbow to prop his thin frame up against marlas soft, peachy pink arm chair. the authentic derry boy hadnt been able to sleep for the very short (very long in richies mind) two hours it had been since they had arrived at the borne girls expensive home.
he wasnt too sure if it was the fact that this was the very first time he had stayed the night over at a girls house without sleeping with her first, or for the fact that he was expecting to break his neck on the angle he was lying at on the upright armchair.
the blonde, prim girl lay quietly under her thick duvet covers, soft snores crawling out of her mouth; a woven orange quilt resting gently on top of her dainty frame. her fudgy hair was spread across her face, fanning across her forehead as her fringe was pushed up into a wild, absolutely chaotic mess. a disaster to fix another time. her two champagne coloured lips were slightly agape, soft puffs of air floating through in between the soft, plump lips.
"marla, wake the fuck up," richie said, louder this time. instead of just looking at the borne girl spread across the thick mattress, he peeled himself out of the crinkling blue sleeping bag that she had neatly folded onto the armchair, and prowled across her soft, fluff carpet laid across the floor until he found himself crouching on his two bare feet in front of the clear girl. his eyes skimmed across her baby face, taking in her look. she was pretty, he thought.
a bit too pretty for a girl like her. a girl like her. a girl like marla borne.
a girl like marla borne was supposed to be rude, awful. the rich bitch. he watched as her chest rose up and down, as she breathed. he memorized the way her short, blonde hair cascaded down above her shoulders, her fringe gently spread up against her forehead, messily pushed up onto her head in a mess. he studied the way her two eyebrows looked without makeup smeared over them, creating a shade different to the natural hairs. the way her petite nose dipped into a thin groove
she was more than that.
he rolled his eyes and lent forward towards her.
"marla !" richie jabbed his pale thumb into the soft, pink cheek, sending a wave of ice and and sourness through her face.
"ow, what FUCK richie? be gentle," marla wheezed, shoving his hand away from the damaged skin and replacing it with her own, rubbing her red cheek whilst scowling at him. simply, he rolled his eyes and sent her a look with his left eyebrow arched upwards.
"jesus, im just trying to help, princess," the tozier boy rolled his harsh eyes and wrapped his fingers around marla's pale wrist, peeling her hand away from the bruised cheek that belonged to her.
"yeah, well you've helped enough," she grumbled surely, glaring at the corner of the white wainscotting decorating all four walls of the pale pink bathroom.
"well i couldn't sleep. and to hell i was ever going to,"
"what the fuck is that supposed to mean, fuckface,"
"it means that in a house as big as this one, the borne household, filled with like, what, twelve beds? and all you gave me was a petty armchair, an armchair, not even an actual couch, to sleep on," he sternly mumbled, no, not mumbled, marla could hear him perfectly.
"well, if youre just so angry at me, why are you helping me fix something you did?" she argued, moving her eyes away from the posh wainscotting on the posh wall, and fixed them against his own.
"where do you keep the ice?"
richie pretended like he didn't hear it.
"you ignored my question, richie," marla snarled, staring into his back as he turned to walk towards the towering white fridge in search for iced cubes.
"where's the ice, marla?" he questioned in an annoyed tone, tongue curling inside of his mouth and his dark eyebrows scrunching together in his search. he prowled across the wood laden ground of the dainty bathroom and stomped across the soft red carpet covering the twisted, curling staircase.
sighing, the girl closed her mossy eyes, leaning backwards and sinking against white paneled wall, engulfing herself, wrapping her bare arms around her goosebump covered skin on the tips of her shoulders.
slowly, marla peeled herself off of the marbled countered sink top and sulked her way towards the slim circled vanity on the wall.
on the side of her cheek was a small purple smudge, a hollow bruise that was created when richie, a big fucking idiot, prodded her cheek with his pointy thumb. letting her hand graze over the red-purple pattern, marla hissed when she pressed too hard.
"i found the ice," richie exclaimed, walking cockily past the richly painted wooden door and gliding towards the girl with a pack of seven frozen ice cubes and a white rag with a navy line down the side.
"here," he wrapped the several iced cubes inside the cotton washing rag, wrapping the cloth tightly around the cubes and gently placing a hand on marla's opposite cheek.
his eyes never came into the much needed contact with her own, instead, he stared directly at his own hand, laced with the wrapped ice. she frowned at this and nudged him.
"you gonna give me the ice? or what?" marla mumbled, sending him a curious look. he (without reluctance) gently placed the rag containing the ice against her now swollen cheek, dabbing it every few seconds or so. he pulled the cold cloth away every now and then, trying his utmost best to prevent more pain.
he would never wish for pain to come her way.
YOU ARE READING
"i sat alone for along time & thought of all the times that maybe you were right, richie," a richie tozier fanfic inspired by the song: mistakes by poppies ( #10 in richietozier ) started: 280618 ended: