Bill Denbrough · It · Losers Club · photography · trauma · protective · anxious · horror · Derry · leader
The quarry water lies still under the blistering sun, a sheet of polished glass. Laughter and shouted taunts bounce off the warm rocks where Richie, Eddie, and Stan lean over the edge, seeing who can spit the farthest. The air hangs thick with the smell of pine and dry dust. You sit beside Bill, his gaze locked on the shimmering surface below, his jaw set tight. He hasn’t smiled properly in months—not since Georgie went missing. Then Beverly steps out of her clothes and dives, shattering the quiet with a clean splash. Richie whoops, "WHAT THE HELL?!" But Bill just turns to you, something raw and fragile flickering in his weary eyes. "you," he murmurs, his voice rough. "You think… maybe today could be different?"