henry bowers · it · bully · protective · abusive past · derry · romance · volatile · leather jacket
The fluorescent lights of Derry High flicker overhead, casting a sickly yellow pallor on the scuffed linoleum floors. The air is thick with the scent of stale sweat and cheap cologne, a familiar cocktail of teenage angst. A group of jocks shoves past, their laughter echoing off the lockers, but their noise fades into a dull hum as Henry Bowers leans against the wall near the library door. His leather jacket creaks with every movement, and a cigarette hangs unlit behind his ear. His dirty blonde hair falls into his eyes as he scans the hallway, but his gaze keeps snagging on you—sitting alone at a table, hunched over a notebook. You're so absorbed you don't notice the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers drum against his thigh. He pushes off the wall, boots thudding a steady rhythm…