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at this point in time, richie thought you were just being a dick to him for no reason. it had been exactly one week since the last time you two got together, and there had been zero contact on your part since then. you'd said that the next time you were free, you'd call him to see when you could meet up again. he had your number, but you never picked up when he called and you never read his texts. if you didn't want to see him anymore, you could have just said that.
should have, actually. richie thought as he walked up to your apartment building. he was desperate at this point, but he needed to know what was up. you two had been on a off now for about a month, but already you had been so good for him. you hated the taste of smoke on his lips, so he'd been trying to cut back on smoking. he even tried that nicotine gum carmy used (he hated it but still chewed it). he was really trying to be good for you, for himself. you were the only good thing in his life besides eva right now, and he really wanted to make things work between the two of you.
so that's why he was currently outside your apartment, trying to find you.
he pressed about five call buttons before someone eventually let him in. he didn't exactly know which apartment you were in, but you'd mentioned before that you lived on the second floor, and judging by the fairy lights and the bird feeder on the balcony of one of them, he'd guessed that was the one. he took the stairs up to room 209, the one with the cute balcony, and knocked on the door. richie could faintly hear the sound of a tv playing in the living room, but that was the only sound he heard. he knocked again. "(y/n)?"
there was a thud. then another. and another. "coming, hang on." your voice carried through the door as you made your way over. there was a pause, then a mumbled curse as you slowly unlocked the door. you left the deadbolt as you cracked the door open, peeking out at him. "hey.."
"yeah, hey. what the hell?" in his mind, richie knew he was coming off a little too strong, but he was upset. you'd blown him off for the past seven days, no contact, and he wanted to know why. "you pissed at me or somethin'? you haven't said shit to me since the last time you came over."
you glanced away nervously, your fingers gripping the edge of the door. "right.." you sighed, pausing as you tried to put your words together. "yeah, uhm.. i'm sorry about that. i've been a little busy lately-"
"the least you coulda done was shoot me a text and been like, 'hey, i'm busy. not this week.' yeah? maybe coulda said something to me instead of making me think you hated me." richie interjected.
you eventually glanced up at him. "rich, i-i don't hate you. i promise. i'm just.. well.." you ran your other hand over your face. "it's complicated.."
"how is 'busy' complicated? what's so important that you can't even acknowledge that i exist?" he crossed his arms defensively. he was very annoyed with the situation, and the fact that you seemed like you weren't even half as bothered by this as he was made it worse.
"well..." you looked down, then up at him and sighed. "hold on a second, i'll just.. i'll show you." you closed your door to unlock the deadbolt, which only made him more curious. what did you possibly have to show him?
when you opened the door, he saw that your right foot was wrapped up in a bandage. his brow furrowed. "so, what happened..?"
"it's kinda embarrassing, i, uh.." you rubbed your face with your hand. "i fell. i was on a chair grabbing something off the top of my closet and.. well.. suddenly my ankle is twisted." you shrugged. "my foot is killing me and i can't put any pressure on it, so i can't exactly leave my place. in case you didn't notice, there isn't exactly an elevator around here.."
richie felt like an absolute asshole. he groaned as he ran his hands up and down his face. "ah, shit. i'm sorry. like, really sorry. fuck.." he huffed, glancing between you and your apartment. now that the door was wide open, he could see the mess in your living room. there were pillows and blankets tossed all over the ground by the couch, and your kitchen table was littered with multiple coffee mugs, most probably half empty. if this area looked that bad, he could only imagine what your bedroom and bathroom looked like..
"how bout i... can i..?" he bit his tongue. he didn't know if this was stepping too far, but he just had to ask. "can i help you with this? no offense, but your place looks like shit. and so do you." you really did. your hair was in a loose messy ponytail, you looked like you hadn't slept in days and just from the whiff he'd gotten, you probably hadn't showered in a bit either.
you winced, and not from the pain. "is it really that bad..?"
he let out a bark of a laugh. "sweetheart, you need help, you just say it. but right now, i'm helping you no matter what your decision is." he paused, attempting a smile. "please?"
you let out a sigh. "fine, come on it." as he let himself in, he noted how you hobbled, practically jumping on one foot to head over to the couch. from what he'd observed, it seemed like you had been sleeping on it instead of trying to make it to your bed, which was probably higher up and much farther away than everything else. you had localized everything so it was mostly within your reach: remote and multiple beverages on the coffee table, a bag of chips on the ground with various pillows, and enough blankets to make a fort out of. yeah, you were living within this five foot radius. it was kind of sad.
you looked up at him as he examined your living situation. "i know, it's a total mess. but.. it works." you shrugged, grabbing a blanket. "and besides, i wasn't really planning on having guests any time soon. and i can't quite make it to my room right now."
richie looked at you as you spoke, and a wave of sympathy washed over him. suddenly he wanted to make you soup and get you in a hot bath and do twelve loads of your laundry. he wanted to take care of you and make sure you were doing alright. "can i get you anything right now? some water? maybe some coffee?"
you were a little surprised at his eagerness to tend to you. "uh, yeah. water would be nice." you motioned towards the glass on the table. "that's the.. most recent cup." you averted your eyes from the other mugs on your kitchen table across from you.
richie grabbed the glass and headed to the sink, filling it and handing it back to you before he examined the situation again, this time more thoroughly. "are you comfortable? wanna make sure you're good before i go clean up around here."
before i go clean up around here. that sure was a new one. richie, offering to voluntarily clean something? you thought you were having a stroke. "uh, i mean, i could use a pillow to prop my foot up with, but-"
you couldn't finish your sentence before richie had your wrapped foot in his hand, a pillow in the other, as he carefully adjusted it so your leg was elevated. he also tucked your blanket up further and placed a pillow behind your head. he was really trying to make sure you were completely comfortable, not letting you lift a finger. it was... really sweet, actually. you weren't used to this side of richie, but you were welcoming it with open arms.
after he got you settled, richie got to work. he took all your half empty mugs of coffee to your kitchen sink and scrubbed them clean, along with the few plates sitting in your sink from a few days prior. he took your garbage out also, which looked like it was about to burst open. you weren't making it down the stairs any time soon, so you really appreciated that.
he took some time organizing your living room a little bit, folding up the excess blankets on your loveseat before heading into the bedroom. yeah, that was probably the worst room out of all of them. there was a half empty box of clothes on its side, the rest scattered on your floor next to a haphazardly placed chair. this must have been where you fell, he'd assumed. he righted the chair and put the clothes back in the box before turning to the rest of the room. your bed surely hadn't been made in many days, and your dresser drawers were half open, like you'd been searching for more clothes right before your little accident. it was like he was picking up the pieces of your life after you hit pause for a week.
richie spent about an hour cleaning up your bedroom and bathroom, making sure they were both spotless before moving on. as he headed to the kitchen, he found you fast asleep in your spot on the couch and he paused to admire you. your lips were parted as you breathed deeply, your hands curled into the blanket. yeah, you really needed him right then, more than you realized. this was a much needed break from trying to continue on with your life while injured. instead, you had richie to help you while you recovered.
when you woke up, richie had the tv on, flipping through channels as he sat by your elevated feet. his hand rested on your calf, his thumb unconsciously rubbing over your skin as his eyes stayed on the television. as you stirred though, his blue eyes met you rubbing your own, and his gaze softened when he noted how tired you looked. that was probably the deepest you'd slept in a while, even if it was just for a few hours while he deep cleaned your apartment.
"thank you. for all of this." you said, a slice of pizza in hand. richie had ordered take out to your room, which was graciously accepted, given you hadn't made yourself a decent meal in numerous days. "you really didn't have to."
"no, but i did it anyway." he said, gazing at you. he stared at you like you were the only thing he cared about in that moment. and you didn't know it then, but you were.
and that's how you knew he was the one.