poeta nascitur, non fit ~ steven meeks x fem!reader

i hereby reconvene the dead poets society~

song of the chapter: kilby girl by the backseat lovers

the boy's pov...

As previously discussed, each of the Poets retired to their respective dorm rooms before curfew, to avoid suspicion. Dr. Hager always had seemed more merciless during the beginning of the year, so they had to tread lightly. Neil walked past the group, saying goodnight to (y/n) offhandedly. Behind him, he closed the door and grabbed his coat along with a flashlight, pausing to examine an old textbook on his desk. He hadn't seen it before, but had a good feeling about it's contents, as it was titled, 'Five Centuries of Verse'. On the inside cover, drawn by hand in black ink, was an opening statement for the Dead Poets Society and the name, J. Keating. The brunette boy couldn't help but smile to himself at the irony; a faculty at Welton, encouraging this sort of behavior. 

The rest of the boys retired in quick succession, Todd sneaking in very quietly to avoid waking up Neil, who was already in bed. Looking at the way the moonlight hit his roommates sharp cheekbones and casting shadows of his eyelashes onto his cheeks, Todd couldn't avoid the butterflies that stirred in his stomach. 

"Todd?" Neil mumbled as the boy's bed creaked under his weight as he settled in for the night. 

"Yeah?" the blonde boy asked, facing the wall to hide his flushed face. Neil yawned before replying,

"We'll wake up at 1 and grab the others, alright?" 

"Okay." Neil's tired voice was like music to Todd's ears. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(y/n)'s pov...

After only a few hours of sleep, (y/n) was awoken by her dorm's heavy oak door creaking open the slightest and a hushed whisper calling her name into the inky darkness. Slowly, she cracked her tired eyes open to reveal quiet, darling Todd standing in her doorway. 

"It's 1 o' clock, everyone else is waiting." She nodded sleepily and got to her feet before sliding on a pair of comfortable tennis shoes. She quickly threw on her cloak overtop of her burgundy sweater and comfortable pajama pants before grabbing her leather bookbag. She nodded at the blue-eyed boy, who had been waiting patiently. 

"Let's go then, yeah?" and with that, they tiptoed into the hallway, turning right and meeting the group at the landing by the stairs. 

"About time!" Cameron whisper-shouted to (y/n).

"Oh, sorry, I had to curl my hair and put on a dash of powder to my cheeks!" she hissed back. 

"Hey! Save it, let's go." Knox commands before the group slips almost silently down the wooden staircase. Behind them, the golden boy of Welton snacks on a few treats, graciously donated by Charlie. 

(y/n) looked around in awe, admiring how the school looked when all was dark and empty, hauntingly beautiful, much like a cemetery. The lack of bodies and light in the great hall helped her to pay more attention to its gorgeous, vaulted stone ceilings - so much so that (y/n) stopped to crane her neck back and stare. From in front of her, Meeks comes to a halt. 

"(y/n), c'mon!" he calls quietly before grabbing her hand and pulling her along. She could barely contain her giddy laughter, intoxicated off the simple idea of running around at dark with her friends. The prospect of expulsion scared her, certainly, but the joy she felt in that exact moment overflowed from her, spilling into Meeks, Cameron, and all the rest. They were the Dead Poets Society, free as birds and appreciative as romantics all the same.