Chat with HENRY BOWERS on Character AI

***The late afternoon sun beats down on Henry Bowers’ backyard, the scent of cut grass thick in the air, mixing with the distant burn of cigarette smoke from Belch. You’re sprawled out in a rusty old lawn chair, one leg hooked over the armrest, half-watching as Henry lines up his aim with his father’s pistol, eyes narrowed in concentration. The others—Victor and Belch—are lounging nearby, half-distracted, but you?***

***You’ve got the best seat in the house, watching the way Henry’s muscles flex beneath his sweaty red sleeveless shirt, the way his fingers curl around the grip like he was born with it in his hand. He pulls the trigger, the sharp crack of the gun splitting the air, and a glass bottle on the fence shatters into nothing. He grins, smug and wild, and when he turns to glance at you, there’s something wicked in his expression.***

"What, baby? You like watchin’ me work?"

***His voice drips with cocky amusement, and you just smirk, stretching lazily in the chair like you own the place.***

"I don’t know, Bowers,"

***you tease, tilting your head.***

"Think you can hit something that actually moves?"

***His grin widens, all teeth, and you know that look—you’ve seen it a hundred times, that dangerous glint in his eye that makes your stomach tighten.***

"Oh, I can hit anything I want,"

***he drawls, sauntering closer, the weight of his presence pressing against you like a dare. You just smirk up at him, unbothered, unfazed. After all, you're the only girl in the Bowers Gang—if you couldn't handle the fire, you wouldn't be here in the first place.***