.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

SHE'S TALKING AGAIN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

xv. coming home

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THE FEW DAYS AFTER STAN'S BAR MITZVAH, Veronica had gotten used to the loneliness. It had only became the average now.

She had grown used to repeating her days over and over again. Barely ever leaving the house unless Bryce forced her out to the grocers or pharmacy.

She laid in bed on her belly with a comic book open. Adjusting her shirt and pulling it down to cover her exposed thighs, she let out a sigh. The shirt was Richie's. His Guns N' Roses band tee which he had left at her house after one of the many days where he had a outburst of energy and sought refuge in the arms of Veronica.

Her lip quivers and she tears up. Thoughts of the last time they spoke flashing in her mind. Her hand connecting with his face. His glasses flying to the ground.

Exhaling and bending her head back, she thought to herself.

'You are such an idiot,'

Flopping onto her back and sitting up, she leaned other to grab her glass of juice. She took a sip from it, her eyes landing into her alarm clock. It read 9:00 PM in bright red. She placed the glass back down.

Her eyes closed for a moment, her yellow reading light illuminating the room. She sat silent for a few moments, thinking of nothing in particular to herself.

There was a small smack on her window, snapping Veronica out of her preoccupied thoughts. It sounded like a pebble hitting it. Her eyes brows furrow and her eyes direct over to the corner where the window resided. Breath hitching, panic begins to fill her system. Heart rate picking up speed.

"What the fuck?" She whispers to herself, staring out the window from her spot on her bed. It was dark. Pitch black. The sound repeats. Her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Nervously, she stands up and walks over to the window. Her hands resting on the handle to open it. With a lack of better judgment and her impulsiveness taking over, she pushes the window up.

She pokes her head out the window, looking down to the ground. Blonde hair falling around her loosely. She sees Richie. Her eyes harden, tilting her head before shaking it.

"Climb the tree, Tozier," She sighs, turning around and going back to her bed. She hears a shuffle from the outside.

Soon, Richie tosses his leg over and is in her room. Veronica sat on her bed, looking down at her hands, refusing to look at him.

"What do you want?" She asks, stubbornly squinting her eyes in annoyance.

Richie doesn't respond, shifting uncomfortably and staring at his best friend. He hadn't seen her since Stan's Bar Mitzvah and hadn't heard her mumble out his name since July. He didn't know why but they felt worlds apart despite standing in the same room.

He sniffles, rubbing his tearful eyes - his body pleading for her to hug him. All he wanted was to be with her, for her to hold him, for her hands to be tangled in his hair. This catches Veronica's attention. Her head snaps up.

Her eyes soften when they make eye contact. His eyes glossy and red with oceans in them and rivers down his cheeks. He fake smiles at her, hating the fact that he was so vulnerable in this moment. Quickly, she stands up and walks up to him.

Placing her hands around his cheeks, cupping them, she analyzes his face. Taking in his features. He looked different from July. His eyes with dark circles and toothy grins knocked off his face.

"Richie..." She breathes out, shakily. Her eyes staring into his glossy ones, running her fingers across his cheeks. He closes his eyes, content. He missed the sound of her voice. The way she whispered his name.

He breaks down there, his sobs filling the room. Veronica wraps her arms around his body once again.

"Shush now, Baby. It's fine, you're okay. I'm here now, always," She whispers to him. His sobs growing louder as his hands clutch onto Veronica's (his) shirt.

Letting go of him, she grabs his hand and leads him to her bed and sits him down. He looks down and cries to himself. Veronica's lips quiver, leaning down to the ground and unties his converse then chucks them across the room.

She stands up, sitting on his lap and wraps her arms around his neck and legs around his torso. He instantly latches onto her. Almost as if, if he let her go, she'd slip away completely. Somehow, physical contact always made them feel safe. They craved each other's arms around them and hands held in hands.

He cries as she plays with his hair and whisper reassuring things into his ear.

"I-I'm sorry, R-Ruh-Ronnie..." He chokes out through his cries.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't say sorry, Rich. I'm the one who should be sorry, it's okay," Veronica says, rubbing his back and kissing his forehead.

They stayed like that for a while, in silence. In a while, he calms down. Looking up at her, she wipes his tears away with her thumbs and smiles gently at him. He smiles back, looking down at her shirt.

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, head tilting in curiosity. She looks down, small smile on her face before scoffing gently.

"Pffft! No way," She giggles out, leaning her head on his shoulder. No matter how lonely she felt when her and Richie weren't speaking, she never realize how much she'd miss being around him, his touch, his presence. She loved it.

Richie shakes his head at her denial with a smile, tightening his grip around her and falling back into her bed.

"I missed you so much, Ronnie," He says as she looks to him with bright eyes.

"Right back at ya, Tozier," Veronica responds, grabbing his hand and linking their fingers together. And, that's how they fell asleep. In each other's arms, smiles on their lips.