IT characters x reader

Henry bowers

I flipped the page in my math book, going to the next problem. I wrote down the numbers, my mind too busy racing with problems to even notice the sound of heavy boots hitting the white floor tile, it's echo the only sound throughout the quiet school hallway.

My pencil stopped mid-writing when a pair of commander boots came into my line of sight. I didn't look up from my spot on the cold floor, sitting with my back against my dark green locker, my legs in a criss-cross with my book and notepad in my lap. My body tensed. I already knew who it was by the faint scent of worn leather and pine straw.

Henry Bowers. The school's psychopath (Patrick's giving him a run for his money, but you get the point), and the town's madman's son. Sure he picked on little kids, basically ran a little school 'bully' gang, was known for his cruel and crude behavior, but did that stop my emotions from falling for him? Not in the least bit.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued to write, pretending to ignore his presence. But when Henry did the most unexpected thing and sat down next to me, my nerves completely forgot what calm meant. My breath hitched, but my hand never stopped moving. I didn't want to give away that I was nervous.

Henry and I had never actually spoken to each other, except for the few times that he's asked me to use a pencil in social studies since he sits right behind me. He never actually used the pencils for anything other than twirling it around in his fingers, so I never actually understood why he'd ask me for them. Of course I always gave him one when he asked, but my face was flushed each time I turned around and our fingers touched when he'd grab it from me (and I think he seemed to notice my blush because he'd give me a smirk and my face would just turn an even darker shade of red).

I took a quick glance at him, examining his dirty blonde locks and the earring that hung from his left ear, to the hidden silver chain under his sleeveless wheat colored shirt. Henry scooted himself up so that his back was also against a locker, about arms length away from me. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, his hands placed in his lap and his head tilted back on the locker, making a small thud sound. I averted my eyes back to my paper.

It was silent between us for a good five minutes, but my mind was no where near quiet. Thoughts raced about Henry. Why was he here? Sitting next to me of all things he could possibly be doing right now? Didn't he have some kid to go torture or something?

Then he moved. Not to get up, but instead to get closer to me. He was now maybe about a foot from me, one of his legs pulled up close to his chest while the other was still lied out on the floor. His hand went into his pocket and took an object out. Thinking it was probably Henry's switchblade that he always had on him, I looked over, but was a bit surprised. It wasn't his knife, but instead a pencil. He twirled it around once, then held it out to me with the eraser facing me.

"It's yours." His voice broke the silence, and I moved from the pencil to his eyes. They stared back at me with gentleness, something that wasn't common with Henry. I could feel the heat start to crawl upon my cheeks. How could someone's voice, someone's gaze have such an effect on a person.

I hesitantly reached out to grab it from him, looking away from Henry's eyes. When my fingertips touched the wood and they lightly brushed against his as always, Henry's fingers wrapped around mine, quickly, keeping my hand and the pencil trapped in his. My heart beat escalated as I looked up to his eyes, but to only find that they were fixated on my lips.

I moved my own to look down at his lips, wanting nothing more in this world than to press my lips against them. To feel his skin against mine, my hands buried in his hair while his are pressed against my body.

We both looked back up at the same time, our eyes meeting. The tension between us was so heavy it could be cut with a butcher's knife. Henry leaned his head toward mine about an inch, but the moment was cut short when I finally came back to my senses and snaked my hand out of his (taking the pencil with me). I turned my head away from his, sticking the pencil back into my backpack.

I thank him, then decide since he's here might as well try to talk to him. What's the worst that could happen? "So, do you have a free period also?"

Henry let out a hysterical snort that made me snap my head back toward him, not expecting that. "No, I just don't like science." A cocky smirk was planted on his face. He had move closer to me during the while I was putting the pencil away, close enough that ours knees were touching now.

"Oh..." Was all that I could stupidly think of to reply back with. I was face-palming myself in my head. I had swallow another lump, "So did you only want to give me that pencil back, or was there something else... that you... needed?" My heart was racing again, his face was inching closer to mine again and I glanced down at his lips.

"Well," Henry began, reaching over and closing my math book. "There is this..." he tossed the book and notepad to the side, "one thing." We were so close to one another now that I could smell the Juicy Fruit gum and mint in his breath. Being that I was so hot and bothered, I was impatient and couldn't wait any longer.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against his, kissing him softly. He was shocked at first that I was the one to make the move, but he smirked into the kiss and kissed me back. It was surprisingly sweet and soft, and lasted for five seconds before we both pulled apart.