A/N: The second prompt in the series, requested by realclassact on Tumblr. Innocence prompt featuring Henry Bowers. Key dialogue: Well aren't you the cutest little thing? + That's the least of your worries. + For some reason, I'm attracted to you.
Derry wasn't safe; especially at night. You were aware of the curfew – it was displayed outside the school on the message board you passed every day on your way to and from the yard. Yet here you are, walking cautiously down Witcham street. You left your bike at home, assuming that you wouldn't need it – not a great idea on your part. The sky was ominous; the moon was small and bright, but not enough for you to see further than the lights that bordered the street. Derry was a physical nightmare and you were ensnared. There's a monster on the loose, you recalled your parents saying. They were referring to a murderer; a child killer. But you imagined something much worse – a real monster that was terrifying and lived in the bowels of Derry. It scared you to know something was out there, lingering in the abyss. Monsters do not exist. They cannot harm me. You recited those same words in your head like a prayer. But in your heart you knew they did – people who kill other people. That's why you needed to get home.
You called your parents around 6, saying that you'd be late for dinner. The cram session lasted a bit longer than intended; you spent the majority of the time with your best friend playing 'truth or dare' rather than studying for the exams. It was after curfew when you decided to head home – your friend's parents offered to drive you to the farm, but it was no more than a 15 minute walk from their house, so you declined. You wished you hadn't. Minutes seemed like hours and you easily forgot how long you'd been walking. Has it even been 5 minutes? 10? You took a quick look around, seeking to determine the location. Once you left West Broadway the houses became few and far between. Nothing but flat land and the sound of crickets all around you. But then, another sound filled the silence; a car engine roaring down the street.
A set of lights engulfed you and from behind a cobalt blue Trans-Am coasted by. You could hear the rowdy howling of voices as it tore across the fissured blacktop and headed towards the farms. In some way you felt like you recognized the car – not many people in Derry traveled around in such a bitchin' ride – but you couldn't put a name to it. A sense of longing consumed you. Had you accepted the offer from your friend's parents, you'd be home by now. The people in that car would most likely be the last to see you, if they had noticed you at all. Suddenly, the car screeched to a stop. You stood frozen on the side of the road as it shot back like a rubber band and slammed to a stop beside you. The person in the passenger seat made your blood run cold – you recognized the car now.
"Well aren't you the cutest little thing?" Henry Bowers stared back at you, resting a Red between his thin lips. You were too scared to reply, but given the rumors you heard about his short fuse of a temper you thought it best to make an effort.
"Um … thanks." You shifted your attention to the bowknot on your satin shoes – face hot and most likely red from embarrassment – but when a choir of laughter burbled up from inside of the Trans-Am you shot a scared look at the boys hanging from the rear window. Of course the entire gang was there; Henry was never seen without them. A rational person would take one look and run. Yet again, here you are.
Henry Bowers snapped his fingers, startling you a bit. Your eyes trailed the wisp of white smoke from his cigarette as it floated in the air around him. "I know you. Seen ya at yer locker a couple of times. Ya have the top next to Trashmouth."
You remembered; he slammed poor Richie Tozier against your locker just last week. You started carrying all your books to class to avoid a run-in with them.
"So, what's yer fine ass doin' out here at this time of night?" You nearly snickered; pick-ups didn't suit Henry. No way could he be this bad at flirting. You weren't arrogant enough to boast about your appearance – beautiful was a term you heard often – but Henry stating you were attractive made you feel pleasant and a little nervous.
"I … I was going home," you confessed. Pointing down Witcham Street you glanced down the vacant road. "My house is just after Rhulin Farms; my parents run an orchard."
"No shit," Victor Criss eagerly said. "Ya hear that Hank? She lives close to you." How could you have forgotten? He lived up the road from you. Sometimes you'd catch a glimpse of the guys lounging outside the old farm house when you rode by on your bike.
Belch Huggins leaned closer, his cap missing from his head. "We're goin' that way. Need a ride, sweetheart?"
"Or you could hang with us for a while. Let us get to know you better," Patrick Hockstetter offered. His smile brought goosepimples to your skin.
You shook your head, certain you'd rather walk home. "I appreciate the offer, but no. My parents are waiting for me. I should get home – the curfew is in effect."
"That's the least of your worries," Henry declared. He flicked the ashes of his cigarette out the window onto your shoe. You were unsure what he meant, but he quickly clarified. "There's a child killer on the loose. I'd feel real bad if somethin' were to happen to ya. Yer too cute to be found rotting in some ditch on the side of the road."
Charming. You swore Hockstetter winked at you. A bad feeling came from them; their intention with you was unclear. Yet you really wanted to get home. Henry had a point, even if you were a little scared of what they might do to you. For a second you considered telling Henry to get bent; that would probably make you a target though. You might be able to make it home, but then again, maybe not. Fate was against you.
"You promise to drive me right home; no stops. I don't want to upset my parents." You toyed with a loose string on your sweater as you waited nervously for his reply.
Henry agreed and opened the door of the Trans-Am, but instead of stepping out and offering you a ride in the back, he patted his knee. "Take a seat."
You felt your heart sink; a nervous feeling churned your stomach. For a moment you stood frozen as a statue. Heat spread across your face. What am I suppose to do? You'd never even kissed a guy before, let alone sat in ones lap. Could you even say no? "S-Shouldn't I sit in the back? It might b-be safer."
"She's so innocent," Victor laughed. "Listen to her stutter; like a copy of that fucknut Denbrough." Patrick and he mocked you until Henry snapped at them to shut up. His icy eyes softened as he looked at you.
"Ignore 'em. I ain't gonna let nothin' bad happen to ya."
You were hesitant, but nervously agreed. Leaning into the car you sat gently down on Henry's lap. It was awkward. After a minute of getting adjusted, Henry slammed the door shut and slapped the side of the car. The engine roared to life and Belch pulled the Trans-Am forward; tires squealing. You squeaked as your body was thrown back. The guys laughed but you ignored them and buried your fingers into Henry's shirt – his arm circled your waist. You couldn't control the smile that brightened your face.
The ride lasted a few minutes before Belch pulled into your driveway, cutting off the engine again. You thanked him and eased yourself from the car and Henry's lap. It was nice while it lasted. As you waved to them, the blonde jumped from the front seat and grabbed your wrist. He leaned forward and closed the gap between the 2 of you, kissing your lips roughly. When he pulled away you felt the heat spread against your cheeks.
"W-Why did you kiss me?"
Henry shrugged. "Felt like you owed me one. Yer too innocent to put the moves on me; girls like you aren't my type, but for some reason, I'm attracted to you."
"Um … thanks. I don't exactly know what to say." You wanted to die. The embarrassment was killing you. "C-Can I hang with you again sometime?"
"Sure … whatever you want, princess."
Henry didn't kiss you again – you wished he had – and climbed back into the car. He did wink, however. That was enough to confirm your feelings for him. It was ignorant to like someone like him; a bully. A monster. Yet it drove you crazy. It intoxicated you. You craved it.
As the car sped from your drive, you licked your lips and smiled. "See ya soon."
