Dead Poets Society - Imagines and preferences

Thunderstorm - Charlie Dalton

I'm literally being crushed by homework these days, so this will be the last update in a while.

A crack of thunder booms somewhere in the clouds, awaking you in a jump. Your heart beats so fast you fear it'll burst out of your chest, but when you realize it's only the storm outside you let out a sight of relief and lay back on your bed.

The rain pouring and smashing against your window sounds much too loud, and a few seconds later a lightning bolt illuminates the room, shortly followed by another boom of thunder.

You internally groan and shift position, laying on your right side, your back against the wall as you face the empty bed in front of you. It sucks not to have a roommate. Most of the time you don't mind, but right now you really wish you weren't alone.

Charlie's face flashes inside your mind, and you feel your cheeks hotten. Oh, how nice would it be if you'd been his roommate! Instead of that prick Cameron...

You and Charlie aren't a thing, but it's obvious that you've got feelings for each other. Only neither of you is brave enough to admit it. You get the butterflies effect whenever he's close, and seeing him smile makes your day. Sometimes the two of you brush hands, and you pull away like his touch burns you. Sometimes you catch him staring at you during class, or at lunchtime, and he looks away, clearing his throat, pretending nothing happened.

You desperately want to tell him how you feel, but you're too shy, and you hate it. The boys keep encouraging you to do it but you're too scared. What happens once you tell him? What if you're imagining things and he ends up rejecting you? What if it doesn't work out? What if you're not good enough for him? What if he grows tired of you?

Thunder booms again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Outside, the storm is raging, and it seems to you that it is getting bigger and louder and angrier as the seconds pass.

Then suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.
You shoot up from your bed, half intrigued and half terrified. Did you just imagine that? No, the person knocks again. Who could it be? Who would be out of their dorms at this time of the night?

"Y/N?" croaks a whispering voice on the other side. "Y/N?"

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Charlie."

A fire warms up your stomach, and you walk up to the door to open it, your bare feet making the cold wooden floor beneath you squeak.

Charlie's face appears in the dark and he steps inside your room, nearly slamming the door shut behind him, only wearing a T-shirt and jogging pants. A new bolt of lightning strikes the sky, illuminating his pale cheeks and his trembling eyes.

"Charlie?" you frown. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I - I - I - "

Thunder booms outside and he jumps, gasping, nearly falling over. You rush over to him to support him.

"Hey! Hey, you all right there?"

"Yes.... I.... sorry...."

This is the first time you've seen him this way. He's nothing like the daring, troublemaker, funny guy you know. Now he looks genuinely terrified.

"I... was wondering if... you wouldn't mind.... me sleeping here just tonight?" he hesitantly asks.

"I - what? No, not at all. But - why?"

An incomprehensible mumble comes out of his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm scared of thunder," he whispers, looking down at his feet, and you can guess that his cheeks are turning red.

"You're - scared of thunder?"

Charlie nods.

"Aw, Charlie.... of course you can stay here. Here, lemme move my stuff from the bed."

As you remove some clothes and notebooks from the extra bed, you feel your insides warming up. Your crush is going to sleep in your room! It takes all of your willpower not to start squealing like an excited five year-old.

"Here you go."

"Thanks. I'm - really sorry about this."

"No problem."

"You must think I'm stupid," mumbles Charlie as he sits down on the mattress.

"Not at all!" you try to reassure him. "Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"But it's stupid - "

"No, it's not," you firmly cut him off. "You're afraid of thunder and that could happen to anyone. I freaked out a little too. Here, wanna know something?"

He nods shyly.

"I'm scared of spiders. I remember when I found one hanging from the ceiling, right there - " you point up at a precise spot on the ceiling, closer to the lamp - "and I was terrorized. I wouldn't go back inside my dorm, so Pittsie had to grab a ladder and remove it because otherwise I was spending the night in the hallway."

A genuine laugh escapes from Charlie's lips, warming up your chest. You made him laugh! You made him laugh! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh -

"Well - um - sorry for the bother," he apologizes. "Goodnight."

"Yeah, g'night."

The two of you lie down, and you tuck your cover over you, turning your back on him to face the wall. He's literally so close right now and it's just the two of you - you really don't want the night to end...

Thunder blazes again, this time making both of you jump. And booms again. And again. And again. 

On the other side of the room, between two echoes, you can hear Charlie's jerked breathe. Poor him, he's probably terrified right now.... I really wish I could do something to help him. But what?

Then suddenly, an idea strikes you. And before your brain can stop your muscles from doing it, you're standing up and walking over to Charlie's bed.

"Scoot over."

"What?" Confusion spreads on his face.

"I said, scoot over."

"But, why - "

"Chrissakes, Charlie, just do it!"

He hesitates for a second, but then moves closer to the wall, making space for you. You lie down under the cover beside him.

"Um.... Y/N," he starts, but you interrupt him by shifting positions to face him and burying your face in his shoulder, sliding your hand on his waist. You feel him tense for a few seconds, but then he relaxes, and grabs your hand in his.

"This better?" you whisper.

"Yeah. Definitely," he chuckles.

You snuggle up closer to him, breathing in his scent. Then gently, he turns towards you, laying you on your back and hovering over you as he admires your face.

"You're a goddess, Y/N," Charlie says softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I know, I know," you giggle.

And then he kisses you. His lips are so soft and light, it feels like kissing a cloud. You put your arms around him to pull him down closer, enjoying every bit of the moment. How many times have you imagined yourself kissing him, believing that it'd never actually happen?

"I wish there'd be thunderstorms more often," he whispers in your ear.