Angeline Scott finds herself a student at Welton prep school for boys after her parents give a large donation to the school.
dead poets society
steven meeks x fem!oc
(currently unedited)
nobody knows this little rose — it might a pilgrim be did I not take it from the ways and lift it up to thee. only a bee will miss it — only a butterfly, hastening from far journey — on its breast to lie — only a bird will wonder — only a breeze will sigh — ah little rose — how easy for such as thee to die! -Emily Dickinson
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a little practice never hurt anyone
The smile that graced Angeline's face was small in comparison to usual. She had just returned from the mail room, where she had delivered her letter writing her acceptance of the marriage and the urge to push it forward. It had took her many hours to get that letter out of her head, many versions had been scribbled over in sheer anger and frustration. But the girl persevered, and put her mind to the daunting task at hand.
Running her arm across the wall to the right of her, the girl walked towards her room, listening to the slight grazing of her fingernails against the plaster. Turning the corner that led to the dormitories, Angeline began to fiddle with the low hanging braid in her hair, tugging and pulling in nervousness. Walking down the hall was causing her to slightly loose her breath, as it felt as the small bunches of boys seemed to stare right into her soul.
Scrambling to the first door she recognized, the girl threw open the door and practically fell onto the bed next to it. This action seemed to surprise Neil, who happened to be laying in the bed at the time.
"Jeez Angie, you almost killed me!" Jumping up immediately after hearing the voice, the girl face burned bright red, and she began to pull on her braid again.
"Sorry Neil, I thought you were gonna be at the desk." Pulling and straightening her skirt, she smiled at the ruffled boy and swiped the script out of his hand.
"You busy Perry?" He shook his head and sat up, smoothing out the wrinkled bedsheets. Grabbing the script back with a lazy smile, he pointed towards the door, which was still ajar from Angeline's fit of anxiety.
"No, not particularly. You wanna help me with my lines? And you can't say no, you already promised you would." Laughing lightly, Angeline snatched back the script.
"Sure Neil, let's get to it." Jumping to his feet, the brown haired boy latched onto the girl's arm and began to pull her out of the room. Laughing loudly, the pair bounded down the hallway and the connecting stairs.
"C'mon Scott, we mustn't dilly dally! Theater awaits!"
"I'm not the one who's performing Perry! I can dilly dally if I want!"
As the two settled down near the docks as to not be distracted, Angeline read over the words in front of her.
"Here comes my messenger. How, now, mad spirit! What night-rule now about this haunted grove?"
