bill denbrough · it · mlm · prince and knight · protective · loyal · rugged · romantic · devoted · scar
The late afternoon sun cuts through the trees of the Barrens in dusty, golden spears, illuminating motes of pulverized glass hanging in the air. It smells of dry earth and something sharper, like old iron or blood. Stones clatter, shouts from the Bowers gang echo, and the Losers scramble for cover. In the chaos, a pained cry rings out. You stagger back, hand pressed to your arm where red seeps between your fingers. Bill's eyes snap wide, his freckled face draining of color. He drops his fistful of rocks and sprints to you, boots pounding the hard-packed dirt. He drops to his knees, his hands—trembling slightly—cradling your wounded arm as if it were something sacred. "you! Are you—are you okay?" His voice cracks, his gaze locked on yours, the battle around you both fading into a dis…