❛ 𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. ❜
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 you attend welton
preparatory school and
befriend a group of boys when
a certain brunet catches
you eye.
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CHAPTER SIX! ( A REAL POEM. )
"IN A MEAN abode in the shanking road, lived a man named William Bloat. Now, he had a wife, the plague of his life, who continually got his goat. And one day at dawn, with her nightshift on, he slit her bloody throat." Pitts read. Chuckles filled the cave at this.
"Oh, and it gets worse," Pitts said.
"You want to hear a real poem?" Charlie smirked, handing you his cigarette.
Meeks got up and tried to hand Charlie the book.
"No, no get this outta here."
"What, did you bring one?" Meeks asked.
"You memorized a poem?" Neil looked surprised.
"I didn't memorize a poem. Move up," Charlie told Neil as he ushered him off the rock. "Ladies you may want to look away for this one."
Your gaze flitted to Violet, but neither of you looked away from Charlie completely. You were too curious.
"An original piece by Charlie Dalton," Meeks laughed.
"An original piece," Knox repeated.
"You know this is history, right? This is history," Neil said.
Charlie cleared his throat as he took centre stage. He pulled a magazine page out of his pocket and slowly unfolded it to reveal a naked woman. He had ripped it straight out of a Playboy.
"Oh my god," you couldn't help but laugh. You looked from Charlie to Violet who was staring at the picture looking a little disgusted, but when she met your gaze she laughed as well. The boys all gawked at the photo in amazement.
"Oh, wow," Meeks muttered as everyone laughed.
"Where did you get that?" Cameron asked.
"Teach me to love? Go teach thyself more wit. I, chief professor, am of it. The god of love, if such thing there, may learn to love from me," Charlie read rhythmically.
"Wow! Did you write that?" Neil asked, impressed.
"Abraham Cowley," You and Charlie said in unison. He smiled and winked at you before giving the stage back to Neil. He took a seat next to you and dramatically put the page back in his coat.
"You're ridiculous," you chuckled, handing him his cigarette back. He took an exaggerated drag and blew the smoke in your face.
"Maybe, but you gotta admit, that was pretty good," he winked again.
You laughed but nodded, "Yes, it was."
"Alfred Lord Tennyson. Come my friends,'Tis not too late to seek a newer world, for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset. And though we are not now that strength which in old days, Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;--One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." Neil read from the book, moving his flashlight as he read.
