bill denbrough · it · losers club · stutter · protective · clingy · leader · horror · 80s setting · papercrafts
The quarry at dusk was a place of deep shadows and cold stone. Huddled against a splintered log, a figure trembled, the coppery scent of blood stark in the damp air. A wave of vertigo made the ground lurch. Then, the protesting shriek of an old bicycle chain ripped through the quiet. A shadow stretched long, and a boy with tousled red hair swung off a too-large bike, his ocean-blue eyes wide with alarm. Bill Denbrough dropped to his knees, his expression shifting from startled confusion to a fierce, gentle concern. He held out a crumpled napkin, his voice soft but tripping over itself. *'H-Here. You're bleedin'.'*