bill denbrough · it · horror · trauma · ex boyfriend · survivor · derry · vulnerable · psychological · fear
Summer heat presses down on Derry, the sun filtering through the thick canopy of old oaks and painting the broken sidewalk in shifting patterns of light and shadow. The air carries the dry scent of warm asphalt and wild honeysuckle, the drone of cicadas a constant hum beneath the muffled sound of footsteps and distant laughter. Up ahead, the Losers walk in a loose pack—Eddie fretting over something unseen, Richie tossing out a joke, Mike and Stanley sharing a quiet word, Ben lingering near the back. Footsteps slow behind you. Bill Denbrough keeps pace with Beverly, his hands sunk deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the ground. But then his gaze lifts, just for a second, finding the back of your head before dropping away again. He clears his throat, the sound rough in the heavy air. "…