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

the phone call~

song of the chapter: like real people do, by hozier<3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(y/n) loathed smoking. Absolutely loathed the nasty, cancer-causing habit that so many of her friends and family members had to take part of. And yet, here she was squatted in the Dead Poets Society's home cave, trying to light a pipe given to her by Meeks, the Latin god himself. In her experience, cigarettes were like inhaling the fumes of burning garbage, while the pipe was slightly more tolerable, similar to a musky kind of comforting firewood burning on a below-freezing day.

Beside her, Pitts choked on his while Todd simply laughed at him, clearly used to the sensation that filled his lungs. In this setting, his blue eyes were lit up unlike any other time she'd seen them - probably due to the tobacco-induced euphoria of the space. Meeks, too puffed on his with ease.

"Attaboy, Pittsie," Charlie drawled "inhale deeply."

"My dad collects a lot of pipes," Meeks remarked with a smirk to (y/n), who rolled her eyes at him playfully.

"Oh, that's really interesting!" Pitts exclaimed, voice dripping with sarcasm and a touch of roughness, likely attributed to the smoking.

"Oh, gods on Earth," the only girl sighed, looking at her Meeks whose cheeks were rosy "collecting pipes? Such a rich American thing to do." the boy feigned hurt, earning a loose giggle from the surrounding group.

"Well, at least mine don't collect weird teacups like you do." he retorted. The other boys looked on as if watching a tennis match, every single one of them waiting until the duo finally realized their compatibility. Even if a few of the boys were jealous that (y/n)'s affections were placed not with them.

"Hey, when I go to a secondhand shop and there's weird teacups and saucers," she defended seriously "you bet your ass I'm buying them." she laughed loudly, earning a glare from Charlie who was trying to gain Knox's attention.

"Don't you have a teacup shaped like a-" Todd asked, blushing furiously when (y/n) winked at him.

"That's just a rumor, my sweet, never been officially confirmed." she drawled, hinting that she did indeed, own a very provocatively shaped teacup.

"C'mon Knox, join in." the beret-wearing gentleman attempted to coax his lovesick friend - whose mind was very obviously latched onto Chris, or rather, the simple idea of her. Together in that cave, clad in warm sweaters against Vermont's stunning but rather frigid Autumn atmosphere, (y/n) felt like something wasn't quite right.

Then it hit her: Neil was not present today. Where he ran off too, she wasn't sure, but she bet it was in his usual riotous, Neil-like taste.

"What's wrong?" Cameron asked Knox, showing a rare concerned face as he looked at his friend.

"It's Chris!" the other boys chimed in synchronously to mock him, while (y/n) gazed at him with pity in her eyes. She, of all people, knew the pain of feeling things for someone with which being anything more than friends was damn near impossible in this lifetime.

Almost as if her brief thoughts had summoned him, Neil ducked his tall frame to fit through the 'doorway' into the cave, immediately being noticed by Meeks, who sat to the left of (y/n), who was nearly wearing Cameron like a pirate wears a parrot on their shoulder.