The Dead Poets

32

A familiar pair of strong arms, wrap themselves firmly around my frame. I sigh contently, my eyes closing briefly, as I engulf their musky scent.

I felt incredibly safe and protected, in Charlie's embrace.

As cliche as it may sound, my home has become a woodsy scent, mixed with a hint of cigarettes. I had read in a book once, that your home was supposed to be where you felt the most love, happiness, and safety. Easily, I had experienced that in immeasurable quantities, with Charlie. Thus, the sappy, inner poet within me, would say my home was in Charlie's arms.

I tilt my head slightly, resting it against his chest, as his lips maneuver to plant a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles against my hair, as my hands fall atop his.

"For what?" I ask lazily, too comfortable in his embrace.

"For everything that happened today," he spoke earnestly, a detectable sadness in his tone.

My heart sinks slightly, as I glance back at the frown that now sat on his face.

"Don't worry about it," I answer honestly, twisting my frame to face his.

His arms remain clasped around my waist, my chin resting comfortably in the centre of his chest.

"Besides, it made today a little more interesting," I say with a light giggle, as he places a chaste kiss atop my forehead.

"I don't know if Knox will see it that way," he adds, his tone shifting towards a dejected one.

"I wouldn't worry about Knox," I answer truthfully, slipping out of his arms, and grabbing the bag that sat next to my feet.

"Speaking of which," I begin, as we walk towards the bus back to Welton.

"Mhhm," Charlie hums, intertwining his fingers with mine.

"Knox is sort of forcing me to go with him to some party tonight," I begin, hoping to sell him on the party, since Charlie appreciated them much more than I had.

"Want to go with me, make it more bearable?" I plead, pouting my bottom lip, while batting my eyelashes.

"Well, let me think," Charlie hums, feigning concentration, while placing a contemplative hand on his chin. I playfully swat his arm, ending his pantomime.

"Yes, I'll go," he answers finally, once we step outside.

"Where is it?" He questions curiously, as I stop to clasp the double-breasted buttons of my navy-coloured coat.

"Uhm, Chet something," I say, failing to remember the last name.

"Vi..." Charlie begins warily, a tone I've come to dislike.

I look up at him, furrowing my brows, as I slip a pair of dark grey, knit mittens onto my hands.

"Don't think I could forget a name like that-no matter how much I want to," Charlie says, forcing a soft chuckle at the end of his words. Though, my expression remains puzzled.

"Today..." he begins gently, not particularly wanting to be reminded of the event.

"The fight," he finishes, upon noticing my slightly cocked eyebrow.

I nod slowly, finally placing the two together.

"So that's who got a Charlie Dalton ass kicking," I say jokingly, grabbing his bare hand, with my mitten-clad one.

He smiles, playfully shaking his head, as we reach the bus.

"Violet!" A voice behind us shouts, as Jack appears, his usual grin plastered across his kind face.

He jogs over towards us, the cigarette that hung loosely between his fingers, falling to the ground, as he crushes the bud beneath his boot.

"I thought you left," I ask puzzled, as he slowly blows the last of the smoke into the cold air.

"Forgot something," he answers sheepishly, flashing a book in the air.

I nod, glancing at Charlie who appears slightly stiff.

"Oh! This is my boyfriend, Charlie," I say, introducing the two, who exchange polite handshakes.

"So, you're both going tonight?" Jack asks slowly, my gaze falling on Charlie, who seems rather perplexed.

I hadn't known Charlie to be the jealous type. Though, he wasn't entirely lacking those tendencies either.

"No," I answer quickly, possibly a little too quickly, as I pause before finishing my sentence.

"Charlie can't make it," I conclude, deciding to avoid any mention of exactly why that was.

"Well, that's a shame," Jack says frowning slightly, while digging into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys.

"I better get going, but I'll see you tonight," Jack more so states, than asks, as he bids his goodbyes to the both of us, and saunters towards his snow-covered car.

"Jack, huh," Charlie says, trailing closely behind me, as we step into the warmth of the bus.

He sits on the torn leather seat beside me, his shoulders rigid, his lips forming a childish pout.

"Are you jealous?" I ask, my tone laced with playfulness, but my question entirely serious.

"Of course not," he answers, peeling his gaze from the back of the seat in front of us. Though, his eyes tell a completely different story. They're strained, worried. Over what? I wasn't entirely sure.

As the bus tore from the parking lot, my eyes dance between the foggy window, and Charlie. The swelling in his lip had gone down significantly, leaving merely a soft purple bruise in its wake.

His hand sat soothingly atop my thigh, while his knee bounced anxiously. His jaw clenched, teeth tugging at his lower lip, as silence overcame us for the remainder of the drive.

A/n: hello again! I think I'll do Charlie's POV in the next chapter. Either that, or the next, next chapter! Hope you're enjoying the story 💛
Ps/ I started school again so updates may be just a little slower :( but I'll try my best!!