" LIPSTICK " + STENBROUGH

[43]

bill denbrough is sitting at the stool in front of his mother's vanity, staring at his reflection. he's home alone, his parents on a date and his brother is at a friend's house.

staring back at him is a boy made up of messy brown locks, a small nose, and bright blue eyes. but upon further inspection, one could make out each constellation bill denbrough's freckles make, the way the light reflects heavenly off of his high cheekbones, the flecks of gold and navy dancing in his irises. bill denbrough is much more than his surface, though.

he is a deeply flawed, emotional teenage boy, with a love for makeup, his family and friends, and stanley uris. bill has been through more this year than he anticipated when he turned seventeen. back when the world was all his, with no one to stop him, his hand in stan's, ready to take on whatever life threw at him. and now, he sits at a vanity in his parent's bedroom, and wonders what ever happened.

the vanity is much neater than it was when bill was five, and his mother had asked him to get her small silver rose earrings. the words still ring in his ears, as he remembers the clutter of makeup brushes, and lipstick, and jewelry scattered around her vanity. it was enough to make bill's mind spin at five years old.

he then remembers the lipstick, with black packaging in the shape of a bullet, and the silver letters 'mac' written across it. bill remembers taking off the top and rolling up the lipstick to put it on. the bright red goes outside the lines of bill's lips, dipping to his chin and reaching to the bottom of his nose. it hugs the edges of his mouth with a wide embrace, unintentionally overdrawn everywhere. bill denbrough is only five years old when he first applies lipstick, and he is only five years old when he is first conditioned to believe that there is something abnormal about the things he chooses to love. there is something abnormal about being a feminine boy, because it undermines your masculinity.

boys don't wear makeup.

not normal ones, at least.

bill subconsciously reaches up to wipe a tear that slips from the corner of his eye, not even noticing he is crying. he sniffles and looks at his reflection, staring at a boy who at seventeen had been crumbling apart like coffee cake just the other day. now, he's trying his best to put the pieces back together.

bill denbrough takes the only item on the desk—a brand new tube of mac's ruby woo lipstick—between his long fingers, takes off the cap, and slowly rolls the product up. it's a fresh slant against the top of the lipstick, perfectly shaped for a pair of lips.

as bill's shaky hand brings the lipstick to his mouth, it feels almost foreign. it's been so long he swears he's forgotten everything. but then, the tip of the lipstick touches an arch of his lip by his cupid's bow, and everything comes back. it is through muscle memory that bill's hands glide the bright red lipstick across his lips, perfectly filling them in. no smearing, no going outside the lines, no parents telling their five year olds to get out of mommy's makeup.

just bill denbrough, with his makeup, happy.

it is once it's on that he feels that. it's a happiness that had since become foreign to bill, too, just as applying makeup had become. it's a feeling bill misses so much, that his heart has ached for what feels like forever.

a feeling of overwhelming happiness invades his chest. just like it always has when he's put on makeup.

——

THAT was the final chapter of lipstick.

there is STILL AN EPILOGUE!!
AND i'm writing bonus chapters with georgie :)

i'm going to save the sappy thank yous for a whole chapter itself, but you get a little one now. thank you. all of the support on this story has been remarkable.

i am SO sorry this is so short. i felt it was better to convey what i needed to—which in itself was already so simple—in as few words as possible. this seems to be the final loose end to tie up.

epilogue to be posted soon, go read my other stories as well :))

x
- m