so much communication its practically ooc
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“We all spent so much time oblivious to everything that happened here. The good and bad stuff, and I’m glad I have it back, that I hopefully get to leave and remember all the good parts. Remember what it meant to me back then," Eddie paused and rapped his fingers on the black aluminum.
"But?" Richie pushed.
"There’s stuff I wish I didn’t just have to remember. Stuff I wish I could have again, just for a little bit,” Eddie said. The breeze had stopped at some point, and the air felt heavy around them, quiet. Like maybe time had stopped to give them this conversation. Like they were fifteen again, alone in the clubhouse after everyone else had gone, and everything suddenly felt clunky and loud and significant. So they’d whisper and try not to look each other in the eyes, and Richie might suddenly feel brave and brush their legs together in the hammock or stare at Eddie a bit too long, because nothing seemed to escape their time alone. Richie attempted to cling to that bravery.
"Like what?"