Lover: Bill Denbrough x Reader (Sequel to Losers: Bill Denbrough x Reader)

Breakfast at Tiffany's

I woke up to an empty bed, the sound of running water and the smell of men's shampoo. I stretched until something popped and sat up in bed. I was still a little groggy from my sleeping meds that it took me a second to assess my surroundings. I glanced over at the clock that sat on the cheap 'wooden' nightstand beside the bed.

2:15 p.m.

There's no way that's right. Is there? I wasn't sure. Time zones were never something I could keep up with.

So it was two in the afternoon and I was just waking up, what is this a Saturday back in high school? I huffed and shook my head. It didn't matter how long I slept, I'd still manage to be exhausted by the end of whatever Mike had planned for us tonight. More than fifteen minutes with Richie Tozier is enough to make a dead man want a nap.

I crawled out of bed and made my way over to the window. Derry looks a lot different in the daytime. It definitely doesn't give off that eerie vibe like someone is watching you. No, Derry in the day time was something you could proudly put on the front of a post card and send it to your special someone.

It had a quaint smallness to it that you don't get often in the hustle and bustle of L.A. So, I relished in the quiet way people out on the street went about their business. Here everybody knew everybody and people felt as though they could leave their doors unlocked, and maybe they did at one point and time, but not now. No, I could see the police scattered at seemingly random intervals along the street. Something was off here.

But, to the untrained eye, everything was perfect. The smell of the fair that purred away in the distance floating through the air. The promise of popcorn and games and a night you won't soon forget. A promise of childish fun, at least for a few moments until you go one too many times on the tilt-a-whirl and end up hurling all over your shoes. To the untrained eye, today was a normal, sunshiny day in Derry.

I remembered the curfew back in '89. Every child in Derry was to be home by seven. Mine and Richie's mother would be sitting at the door at 7 p.m. sharp, and even God himself couldn't help us if we were late. Ben's mother even bought him a new watch to make sure he was home on time, for days when she had to work a bit later at the plant. I heard him chatting with the librarian about it when I came to return Lord of the Flies after I finished my book report.

What an oddly specific thing to remember.

Why was there a curfew anyway? What happened back then that called for such a thing?

I hadn't heard the water stop running, nor did I hear the bathroom door open. So, I nearly jumped out of the window I had been looking through when I heard Bill laugh from somewhere behind me.

"Good morning, s-sleepy head."

I spun around and came face to face with Bill in nothing but a towel. Last night's overly comfortable has taken on an entirely new meaning I suppose. I tried to ignore the water that ran down his chest and the way his damp hair was slicked back as if with strong gel.

"Good morning." I nodded.

"So, have you made your m-mind up about last night? Did I cross the line or-"

"I think I reciprocate your feelings." I said and almost cringed at the formality.

"You're serious?"

"Not telling me you were married was a dick move, but like I said, I've been feeling almost the exact same way that you are since I opened my door to you last night. I feel comfortable around you and I get this anxiety whenever you mention leaving."

"That's great, I knew-"

"But it doesn't matter how I feel, unless you can promise me that there is no chance of you going back to Audrea, then we can't do this. I'm not going to be the other woman, Bill."