Bev's voice surprises him. He's not sure why, really. Maybe he'd expected Ben or Richie to sidle up and go with him to the bar. But the element of surprise has always been a Bev thing, so he really should have known better. He offers her a tiny smile.
"Derry and charm don't belong in the same sentence."
Bill breathes out a laugh and shoves his hands into his pockets, looking out at the quiet, empty street. Derry seems eerily still in a way that feels normal. But normal and Derry never quite go hand in hand and never have. Even now, with It gone, he's not sure that this place will ever truly feel normal again. But perhaps it's better that it doesn't.
"I need to head back before all of Hollywood winds up in Derry looking for me." There's no boast in his voice, just a tired sort of amusement. After all, he left in the heat of filming, when all eyes were turned on him for a new ending to the picture he'd been working on. "But a couple of extra days won't hurt. Have to give myself time to nurse the inevitable hangover."
They all need to leave this place, he thinks, even though they've defeated the monster in the dark. Leaving Derry this time might feel less like a forgetting and more like a solemn goodbye. He sucks in a deep breath, the cool, morning air crisp and clean in his lungs. He exhales it on a tired sigh, leaning his body into one of the porch posts so he can better look at her, wrapped up in a cardigan that, she's right, does little to hide what they all know is there underneath.
It gives him pause, however, before he finally asks, "You?"
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"Derry and charm don't belong in the same sentence."
Bill breathes out a laugh and shoves his hands into his pockets, looking out at the quiet, empty street. Derry seems eerily still in a way that feels normal. But normal and Derry never quite go hand in hand and never have. Even now, with It gone, he's not sure that this place will ever truly feel normal again. But perhaps it's better that it doesn't.
"I need to head back before all of Hollywood winds up in Derry looking for me." There's no boast in his voice, just a tired sort of amusement. After all, he left in the heat of filming, when all eyes were turned on him for a new ending to the picture he'd been working on. "But a couple of extra days won't hurt. Have to give myself time to nurse the inevitable hangover."
They all need to leave this place, he thinks, even though they've defeated the monster in the dark. Leaving Derry this time might feel less like a forgetting and more like a solemn goodbye. He sucks in a deep breath, the cool, morning air crisp and clean in his lungs. He exhales it on a tired sigh, leaning his body into one of the porch posts so he can better look at her, wrapped up in a cardigan that, she's right, does little to hide what they all know is there underneath.
It gives him pause, however, before he finally asks, "You?"