Richie wasn't sure when all of this had started between you. But somewhere along the line, he'd started leaving his bedroom window unlocked and cleared his miscellaneous crap off of his fire escape so you could climb through.

He could have made you a key. He would, if you asked him to. But you hadn't, yet. So he simply let you keep sneaking into his apartment - though you woke him up every time you got in his bed because he was a light sleeper.

He didn't mind when it was you.

He'd known you probably since you were in diapers. You were younger than Sugar, but older than Carmy. Not quite the baby, but pretty damn near. He'd practically grown up with you, too. He'd been there when everything fell apart. He knew exactly how you felt when you realized that Mikey was never coming back. And maybe it did start at the wake - the thing that had bloomed between two.

It was stupid, really. How fast he'd fallen into this comfortable routine with you. Get up. Go to work, do his shit, go home. Leave a little dinner out for you. Then go to bed and wait till he felt your smaller body in the bed next to him.

It was a little absurd.

You never talked about what it meant. Richie didn't ask. You needed him after your long days, he didn't mind someone to hold after a shitty shift. It worked, for the two of you.

Tonight was one such night. He'd heard you pad into the apartment through the window, go eat your dinner, and come back. Without you asking, he accepted you into his arms. "Hey, honey," he whispered against your hair.