In The End We Are Still The Same (Reddie)

The Kissing Bridge

Chapter 2: part 1

Richie had always avoided the kissing bridge. Manly because that was where so many other teenagers would hang out, those who most likely would enjoy attacking him with crude remarks.

That was his excuse at least.

But with the Bower's gang dispersed, there wasn't much of a threat anymore.

He could come up with something else but it wasn't worth his energy.

Really the only thing stopping Richie was his own fear. And he had to admit that to himself, no matter how much he didn't want to. He was a coward.

Eddie.

Fuck, can't he just rest? Every fucking day it is the same shit. Eddie always on his mind, finding a way to leak into his brain, to mold itself into the curves of his membrane. Fitting perfectly into his thoughts like a puzzle piece slotting itself into his subconscious and consuming his sanity entirely.

So maybe he didn't like going to the kissing bridge, because it was crowded, and loud. Too many people doing what you'd do on such a location. Kiss.

But he couldn't lie to himself, as he passed by on his bike. It was empty. Secluded, quiet. He was alone.

Maybe a part of him didn't like being alone. Because it meant he was alone with his thoughts. Meant he could think, and thinking was bad.

Maybe. He liked being confused.

Because if he was confused then he could never be sure. He could pretend he didn't know the answer. He could just live life, in blissful ignorance.

Eddie.

His heart settled between his ribs like jelly, and he quickly got off his bike.

Just earlier today, he was internally making fun of everyone for being afraid of spiders, when they had undoubtedly fought off something far scarier.

Yet here he was, trembling, terrified at the thought of facing something as simple as his feelings. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, feeling his breath waver.

If he could kick Pennywise's ass, then he could deal with basic emotions.

It's just— he doesn't want to admit it. Doesn't want to dwell or confirm that those feelings, are love.

Love.

Gross, horrifying, violent, cruel love.

Or that's at least Richie's idea of love. With the way his father and mother treat each other. With the way they treat him. It's even how Beverly talks about it when it comes to her dad.

Love is demanding, it's selfish. Love is bad.

And it's especially bad when it's towards a boy. The idea of anyone else knowing, of anyone finding out, it was possibly scarier then that stupid clown.

Because at least if something caused Richie's suffering, it would be Pennywise's fault. But now? Richie was in control. Anything bad happening would be his own fault. He would be to blame. For this thoughts. For his feelings. Why couldn't he just bury it down? Hide it.

He felt the outline of his pocket knife on the right side of his jean pockets, and pulled it out slowly, tentatively, he was all too aware of the cold metal brushing his hand.

He looked around, the road was clear, no cars, and most likely no one would walk by, as he looked overhead at the sky and saw the sun would be setting soon.

Just to humor himself he parked his bike, hitting the kick stand with his sneaker, before walking over to the wooden fencing of the bridge.

It was covered, absolutely littered with all different types of carvings, some just blantantly names. Other dates, or crude drawings. There were the random peices of gum stuck to the sides of it, but even with everything there, Richie noticed, a basically empty spot, untouched, by any other people.