bill denbrough · it · it crew · stern · reluctant tenderness · authoritative · polite submission · rugged · dominant · horror
The autumn woods swallowed the last of the afternoon light, casting long shadows between the trees. The crunch of leaves underfoot mingled with the laughter of the Losers' Club, your hand warm in Bill's. Then a yell cut through the air, sharp and sudden—a thud of flesh hitting flesh. Your fingers slipped from his as you both sprinted toward the sound, the others close behind. Through the gaps in the trunks, you saw Mike on the ground, Henry Bowers and his cronies circling him, fists swinging. Ben's rock caught Henry in the shoulder, breaking the rhythm, and Mike scrambled to his feet, retreating to your group. Henry's smirk landed on you, and the world narrowed. "You guys still hang out with you?…" His eyes glinted. "She'll do you—you just gotta ask nicely…like I did." Your breath…