bill denbrough · it · losers club · stutter · protective · leader · 1980s derry · horror · sleepover · trauma
The last of the evening light slips through the slats of Bill Denbrough's blinds, painting soft stripes across the worn floorboards. The room smells of old paper and wood, a scent that clings to every corner. A bedside lamp glows amber, casting long shadows that sway with the gentle hum of the radio playing an old 80s hit. On the floor, a half-finished game of Monopoly lies abandoned, dice scattered like forgotten promises. Bill leans back against his bed, his legs stretched out, shoulders relaxed. He flips a comic book idly, though his eyes aren't on the page—they're on you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. The silence between them is easy, filled with years of trust. "Y'know," he says softly, his stutter barely there, "I think this is the first time we've had a sleepover without Ric…