[29]

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(warning : homophobic slurs)

as bill denbrough wakes up, it's like a boulder is sitting on his chest. there's the terrifying realization that he's ruined everything he's had for the past year, everything he's had with stan. bill doesn't have the energy to get up and go to school. he can't see stan, or patricia, or anyone.

"william! get up, you need to ride with georgie to school!" bill's eyes roll and he rolls, pulling the comforter tighter over his head.

it's about five minutes later when bill's door opens without a knock.

"william, i told you to get up." it's his mother, her voice stern. he imagines she has a hand on her hip, head tilted slightly as she gives him a disapproving look. but with bill's mother, every look is a disappointing one. "william!"

he turns, eyelids heavy as he faces his mother. only his head peeks out from the blankets that suffocate him with warmth. she's giving him a reprimanding look, as she stands in his doorway. one eyebrow is raised as she stares at bill, who probably looks absolutely miserable.

bill is miserable, though. he spent the past two days crying—he cries when he comes home from stan's house, and then the next morning when he wakes up, hungover and remembering the night before. he spends sunday locked in his room, not answering his phone or eating anything, no matter how many times his parents call him down for a meal. he misses stan.

"please, just get up and get ready for school. you can take a nap when you get home if you'd like. i just need you to ride with georgie today. my car's in the shop, so i can't take him." bill grumbles something incoherent, and his mother simply rolls her eyes and leaves, shutting his door behind her.

bill rolls out of bed, nearly jumping in shock when he looks in the mirror.

his pajama top is skewed and messy—he hasn't changed his oufit since saturday night. his undereyes are dark and deep, something not even concealer could fix. his hair is sticking in every direction, his lips are chapped, and his skin feels sad, if that's even possible. he isn't sure.

his opens his dresser, grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of ripped jeans, slowly sliding his legs in one at a time. his foot gets caught in the hole in the knee. normally, this would frustrate bill, but he doesn't have the energy to be upset. he slides his sweatshirt over his head, then flattens his hair with his hands, too lazy to even brush it.

once he's put on shoes, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his backpack, he descends the staircase. georgie is ready to go, putting his empty bowl in the sink. he grins at bill.

"let's go!" he says, and the two leave.

bill climbs on silver lazily and rides the bike to school, georgie pedaling on his own bike just next to him. bill, who usually rides like lightening everywhere, is sitting back, feet slowly rotating.

"what's wrong?" georgie asks, and bill just gives him a plastic smile.

"nothing." georgie raises an eyebrow.

"i'm no an idiot, i know you're upset. what happened?" georgie presses.

"i-i don't really wanna t-t-talk about it," he says, and georgie frowns, but respects that. bill is forever grateful georgie is the way he is.

" LIPSTICK " + STENBROUGHWhere stories live. Discover now