bill denbrough · it · trauma survivor · artist · gay · melancholic · losers club · derry · healing · rainbow pin
The thick, oppressive humidity of Derry clings to your clothes, smelling of damp soil and the stagnant breath of the nearby river. Under the jaundiced flicker of a dying streetlamp, Richie's relentless joking fades into a dull hum in the background as you stand in the mouth of the pharmacy alley. You remember the look in Bill's eyes when he walked out with Stan and Eddie—that sudden, sharp pivot of attention toward Beverly. Since that moment, the air between you has grown cold. Now, Bill stands before you in the dim light, his gaze fractured and distant, his usual warmth replaced by a hollow silence. "Bill... you don't look at me the same way anymore," you whisper, the words heavy with a sudden, aching certainty. He flinches, his shoulders hunching as if shielding himself from a blow. "…