[It's like the ground rushing up to meet him after leaping off a swing. Eddie looks horrified, at himself, or at Richie, or at what just happened, maybe all of the above, and Richie doesn't really want to fucking know. He does his best to lock his expression down, bites on the inside of his cheek to stop the way his mouth quivers, and swallows the bile that rises in his throat.
When he speaks, it's as much to himself as it is to Eddie.]
No, it's okay. It's fine. Eds, breathe. Stop for a second. You gotta just breathe.
[He's already dropped his hand from Eddie's cheek like it's been burned, and now he balls it up in the fabric of his shirt, clenching it tightly and then dropping it once he realises it's not enough, it doesn't do anything to calm his own mounting panic. Instead, he curls his fingers around his knee, and it's nothing like the soft touch of his hand to Eddie's face- he bites his nails viciously into the skin of his leg, digging and pushing until it's all he can feel, not the swimming of his stomach.]
I know. It's okay. I know.
[Of course Eddie didn't mean to. Of course he didn't. Fuck.]
no subject
When he speaks, it's as much to himself as it is to Eddie.]
No, it's okay. It's fine. Eds, breathe. Stop for a second. You gotta just breathe.
[He's already dropped his hand from Eddie's cheek like it's been burned, and now he balls it up in the fabric of his shirt, clenching it tightly and then dropping it once he realises it's not enough, it doesn't do anything to calm his own mounting panic. Instead, he curls his fingers around his knee, and it's nothing like the soft touch of his hand to Eddie's face- he bites his nails viciously into the skin of his leg, digging and pushing until it's all he can feel, not the swimming of his stomach.]
I know. It's okay. I know.
[Of course Eddie didn't mean to. Of course he didn't. Fuck.]