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

the events of henley hall~

song of the chapter: take me to church ~ hozier

brb this song makes me cry so hard. 

TW~~ huge canon divergence, mentions of suicide, just sad boi hours. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The attendance of the play was incredible, (y/n) thought as they entered the auditorium, which was wallpapered in gorgeous blues that complimented the scarlet-red curtains on stage. Actually, the curtains nearly matched (y/n)'s blouse, she thought offhandedly while trying to avoid the stares of some older men, who it appeared were judging her for wearing pants - not a skirt. 

"Oh, to hell with them." she muttered to Meeks, who told her not to worry. The Dead Poets Society had gotten seats together, luckily the entire row had been free. Forever a nervous fidgetter, Keating was tapping his fingers on every surface he could find - his legs, the chairs, the book he'd brought with him - making (y/n) nervous in the process.

"Relax," she mouthed at the older man, leaning over Meeks and yet still too far to actually speak to him. The second Neil appeared on the stage, clad in a black ensemble complete with a very faerie-like crown of leaves and assorted twigs(that they had collected on one of their early-morning walks), majority of the boys jumped up in excitement. 

"There he is!" Charlie whisper-shouted, outrageously overjoyed for his best friend. How crazy, (y/n) thought, that there was this version of her Charlie, and then the boy who had been degraded by an old man. In that moment, she was eternally grateful to have them all by her side - even as Keating was chittering at them to shush and sit down. 

But they could hardly help it, could they? The cheerful atmosphere reverberated into the room from each of them, and (y/n) wiggled in her seat at the feeling. Meeks, gently, put his hand on her trouser-clad thigh, beaming broadly. 

"Calm down, or you'll miss it all, my little honey." he whispered in Latin, earning a curled smirk from the girl. 

"Stop being so beautifully distracting," the Latin rolled off her tongue like dew from a flower petal "and I will." The boy shook his head and laughed quietly, but then the pair drifted off into silence. 

The play resumed, and Neil was by far the star of the show. Some of his mannerisms, like the odd noises he made out of sheer excitement some days, were often called odd in the social scenarios such as classes at Welton. Here, however, they earned the fierce admiration of everyone in the audience, who longed to see just a few more moments of his character in action. 

The live pit band was exquisite as well, truly setting the tone for the entire show. It was beautiful, the girl thought in awe, grasping Meeks' hand and pressing a kiss to his freckled knuckles, how incredibly talented some musicians were. Thank God for music, for it would always be her savior. 

Neil Perry pranced around the stage, talking in fervor to another young actress who played his counterpart, looking more alive than (y/n) had ever seen. Sure, at Welton he was amicable, but here? Here, he was a beautiful force to be reckoned with - not quite as gentle as a sunrise, but more like a natural disaster, bringing change and upheaval in the most delicious of ways. 

"A merrier hour was never wasted there!" he exclaimed, earning a squeal from the other actress. "But room, fairy," his voice quieted every so slightly " Oberon is here." Neil and his fairy counterpart faded into the background, leaving room for Lysander and Hermia to take center stage. (y/n), who mostly came just to see Neil, got bored the second he stepped off the stage.