bill denbrough · it · stutter · possessive · jealous · protective · losers club · romance · derry · teen
The late afternoon sun slants through the gaps between Derry's old brick buildings, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. From the mouth of a narrow alley, a faint sound of shuffling feet echoes. Bill Denbrough's lanky frame is half-hidden in the gloom, his brown hair falling over his eyes as he keeps you pressed close against him. The distant chatter of the Losers Club fades. He nuzzles into your neck, breath warm. "*Where's **my** a-attention?*"