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(SPOILERS FOR IT: CHAPTER TWO, SO BEWARE)
After returning to the Derry Inn with your sacrifice, (a love letter to Bill you never actually sent) you find yourself in a moment of calmness. The foyer is void of any people and silent as the woods during the twilight hours.
It's only when you delve further into the Inn that you discover Bill standing in the corner of the connecting room, examining something clutched in his hands.
"Bill?"
You call to him softly, warily, even. But you don't receive a response. He's immobilised by whatever he is holding. It's unnerving to say the least.
The thought of this man before you actually being something projected by Pennywise crosses your mind. His lack of response and stillness seems like something the clown would use to trick you.
But the sound of a throat being cleared chases away these fears. Bill turns around, fixing you with a distant stare.
In his hands, is a waxed paper boat. Yellowed with age.
This boy- or man, rather- was your friend since the beginning. You were the first two members of the Loser's Club. You two started it all.
"This is the b-boat I made for G-G," He stammers on his little brother's name. He can't force himself to say it, and it isn't long before he gives up entirely, breaking down in front of you.
You rush to his side, pulling him into a hug. As he cries on your shoulder, his constant pain hidden from the rest of the world, you're reminded of something.
A distant memory. A certain bridge, and a certain rock. And two particular names, paired together, carved into the soft wood.
It all rushes back to you. The moment you carved your first initial and Bill's into the wooden plank on the Kissing Bridge. You don't know why you did it. You always hid your feelings from your best friend, but carving yours and his initial onto the Kissing Bridge was like an outlet.
A way for you to let go of it. And yet, 27 years later, you're still in love with him.
"It's okay, Bill... it wasn't your fault."
Whether or not he actually heard your words was a mystery. He simply gripped onto you tighter, as if you were his final lifeline. Something he could no longer live without.
A sudden commotion in the foyer of the Inn drew both of your attention, and Bill quickly moved back, wiping at his eyes with the edge of his sleeves hurriedly.
