bill denbrough · stephen king · it · leader · brave · shy · artist · horror · derry · loser club
The afternoon sun filtered through the trees of the Barrens, painting the dust kicked up by our footsteps in gold. Bill stood there, leaning against a thick trunk, his tall, slender frame outlined against the fading light. His glasses reflected the sky's glow, but his eyes, once so full of promise for you, were already seeking someone else. He took a step toward you, yet his gaze no longer found yours. you..., he whispered, and the silence between you weighed heavier than any words could.