𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

✩ 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 [𝚙𝚝 𝚒𝚒] ~ 𝚋.𝚍. ✩

pairing: bill denbrough(18) x (fem)(18)reader

warnings: like one curse word

word count: 2013

song preference: taking what's not yours, tv girl

requested? [yes] [no] (in a way?)

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"ʙɪʟʟ, ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ mail!"

Every week on Saturday, those words made Bill's face light up in joy. Every Saturday, he raced downstairs like he was being chased and snatched the mail off the front porch. Every Saturday, he took it to the kitchen table and sorted through countless envelopes. Every Saturday, he looked for a letter from [Name].

Every Saturday, he was left disappointed and heartbroken.

Although the pair had not agreed to mail letters back and forth and Bill wasn't even sure what her new address was, he still hoped that one day she would mail something to him, something that let him know she was still out there, waiting.

But the letter never came.

Bill sighed and his mother put a hand on his shoulder, her head bowed slightly. "Are you alright, Billy?"

The nickname made him cringe. "I-I'm fine, Mom." He wanted to tell her to not call him Billy anymore, that he wasn't a little kid, but he couldn't. Every time she called him that nickname, he could hear [Name]'s voice echoing in the background, like a bird call just outside his window.

"You don't look fine," his mother said, pressing a cool hand to his head. She gasped a little and stepped into the kitchen, rifling through the freezer for a bag of peas. "Jeez, Bill, you're burning up."

Bill gave his mother an annoyed look as she tended to him like a baby. As she led him to the couch and then bustled off to make stew for him, he thought, [Name] would never treat me like a baby. She would tell me to go stand under the hot shower until I felt better.

But [Name] had moved to Oregon a long time ago.

In fact, Bill couldn't even remember when she moved. Was it March, or April? Maybe it was February.

As his mother came back into the living room to check up on her only son, Bill asked, "Mom? H-how long ago did [Name] m-move a-away?"

His mother bit her lip and hesitated for a moment as if she could hardly remember either. "Oh, Billy, it must've been April because that nasty storm hit us a day after she was gone."

"Oh," Bill said, looking down at his hands. His mother adjusted the peas on his forehead and kissed his cheek. She said, "I know you miss her as much as anyone else, maybe more. But you broke up a long time ago and . . . I don't think she's ever coming back, Billy. Most people never do."

Bill knew this already. Of course he did. But it didn't break his heart any less to hear his mother tell him how pathetic he looked, waiting for his ex-girlfriend to come running back to him. After all, she had been the one to initiate the breakup.

"Get some sleep, Bill," his mother advised, kissing his temple again. "You're going to need rest."

Bill felt chills go up his spine when his mother kissed him there on the side of his forehead. Like a bolt of lightning, the memory of that night when the rain stopped reminding him of Georgie and all that mattered was the girl laying with him struck his skull and rattled his body.