where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

9 - the most beautiful girl

He hadn't gotten to finish before Maria lunged for him, making another hurrah attempt at grabbing her notebook from out of his hands, but Charlie had seemingly anticipated her movements and stood up quickly, moving away from her.

"Charlie!" Maria shrieked, scrambling to her feet and running after him as he laughed, running backwards, and teased her by waving her notebook in the air.

Knox watched his two friends with a bemused look on his face as Charlie darted around the courtyard, always a step or two ahead of Maria who ran after him, hair bouncing and eyes bright and cheeks a pretty girly pink. He glanced around at the others who all shared his same amused look.

"Gentlemen," he said, with a grin. "Care to start a wager?"

••●••

"Charlie! Give it back," Maria said with a huff when Charlie darted away from her again. He wasn't all too interested in reading her poem anymore but found the whole "making Maria chase him around to get the notebook back" a far more amusing sort of game.

Maria sighed, narrowing her eyes at Charlie who stood about two feet away from her with a sly twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his face. "I'm not chasing you anymore, Charlie," she said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her chin defiantly.

Charlie cocked his head to the side. "Oh, come on, doll, where's your sense of humour?" He teased, tossing her notebook back and forth between his hands.

Maria couldn't help but feel a little flutter in her chest at the sight of Charlie's playful grin. She tried to still the butterflies, hoping to remind herself that they were simply just friends and this was just Charlie - flirty and suave-as-hell Charlie. But then, Charlie took a step closer to her and Maria couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in the sunlight, with his messy hair and bright eyes.

The fall scenery of the courtyard backlit him in a way that almost reminded Maria of a Hollywood movie with her very own version of Mister Marlon Brando in front of her. Charlie was certainly pretty enough to be a Hollywood star if he desired.

"Charlie, seriously, give it back," Maria pleaded with a pout.

Charlie's smirk grew wider. "Come on, doll, admit it. You're having fun."

Maria rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn't deny that she was enjoying this playful banter between them. She took a daring step closer to Charlie, her heart beating a little faster when they were toe to toe and she could make out the exact colour of his eyes in the sun.

They weren't brown - they were gold. Dripping honey gold and gosh it made her heart flutter.

"Admit it and I'll give it back to you," Charlie said, his voice low and husky and causing the butterflies that had settled in her stomach to abruptly take flight again.

"Admit what?" She said, trying to sound annoyed but failing quite miserably. "That I'm having fun?"

Charlie's eyes lit up at her words, but he shook his head. "No," he hadn't moved but he suddenly felt so much closer, his entire frame taking up her line of vision and Maria realized with dizzying wonder that he smelled good. Like neroli and cedar, or maybe it was ginger and oakmoss - she wasn't too sure.

"What then?" She managed to choke out.

"Admit..." Charlie's gaze flicked over her face, pausing at her lips a little too long for it to be considered friendly. "Admit that I'm the most handsome man you've ever met, Maria Keating."

Maria felt her cheeks flush with warmth. "You're so ridiculous, Charlie Dalton."

"Am I?"

"Ridiculous? Absolutely."