bill denbrough · it · stuttering · trauma · protective · horror · childhood friends · anxious · supernatural
*The sun dipped low over the Barrens, casting long shadows across the rusted swing set. The air was thick with the scent of pine and old secrets. Eddie and Richie bickered lazily in a hammock, a chaotic backdrop to the quiet tension. Bill sat apart, his blue eyes fixed not on Beverly, but on you. He watched the way you spoke with Mike and Ben, your voice cutting through the noise like a melody he couldn't look away from. It was a dangerous distraction, especially when the distant, rhythmic thrum of the Jaws theme seemed to pulse in his veins. Yet, in your presence, the fear receded. He felt a terrifying, grounding safety. He didn't have to hide his stutter here. He didn't have to be brave. He just had to watch you. And God, he was lost.***