𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

✩ 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 ~ 𝚜.𝚞. ✩

pairing: stanley uris x (fem)reader

warnings: none

word count: 2927

song preference: are you bored yet?, wallows

requested? [yes] [no]

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ᴅᴇʀʀʏ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅ of the monstrous being known as It for almost four years now, and us— the Losers Club— had stuck together through all of it, weathered and worn but still strong together. Of course, we were missing Beverly and Mike hardly talked to any of us because he was homeschooled, but we were still friends.

I wanted us to be a group again so badly.

With the years coming and going, we continued to grow and our futures began to change. Some of us wanted nothing to do with Derry; others wanted to stay and figure out why this was all happening, and in Maine no less. And although everyone talked about how lame and boring the summers were here in Derry, I never got bored. It was home to me, and it always would be. No matter how many times it's inhabitants tried to kill me.

"Stanley, wait!" I called to him as he walked up the hill, his blonde curls bouncing to and fro in the breeze. I was holding the picnic basket that I had retrieved from the trunk of my car, celebrating my second anniversary with the boy I loved most.

I can still remember how we got together in the first place. It was warm out, warmer than usual for March, so everyone was wearing tees and pants, shedding our winter coats like skin off a snake. I was happiest of all to be free of my winter outfit, as I hated the cold and wanted it to be summer again. Oh, anything for just a drop of humidity to free me from my cursed prison of baggy coats and fleece-lined pants.

Stan was also grateful for the change in weather. Warmth meant birds flocking back to their native homes in Derry, like geese and sparrows and all kinds of other little winged creatures. It was Stan himself who had asked me out to begin with, the boldest move any of us had seen him pull in a century, even though I was too blind to see it was a move at all. I simply believed he was being kind and invited me to come to his house to watch birds from his window.

"Of course I'll go, Stan," I responded kindly, excited myself to be alone with him. I had been crushing on him for quite a while and was wondering if I would have to confess my own feelings first. I made it to his house and greeted his mother, who sent me upstairs with a warm cup of mint tea that she had brewed herself just a minute ago. His mother had herbs lining every shelf that she used to cook with, make teas with, and all other kinds of interesting remedies and concoctions. None of us knew why, not even Stanley himself, but we weren't naive enough to ask and possibly offend her. Sometimes, it is easier to live in ignorance to spare others.

I appeared in Stan's room not a moment later, finding him perched on a chair facing out a window that overlooked the Meadow, a grassland that stretched on as far as any of us could see before it hit dense, dark woods that not even Paul Bunyan was brave enough to cut down. I made my presence known and Stan simply patted a similar wooden chair perched beside his, a pair of binoculars resting on the seat.

We stared out the window in fascination for about ten minutes before I began to grow bored, as one does when something no longer becomes interesting. I instead laid back in my chair and watched Stan watch the Meadow. I didn't understand it— how could someone just stare at something for hours and hours, so intently and without moving? It all seemed quite boring to me.