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

9 - the most beautiful girl

The leaves had fully changed colour at Welton and the group was basking in the warm hues of reds, yellow, and oranges in the courtyard that weekend afternoon.

Knox yawned, stretching out lazily. He leaned over to his left, hoping to chance a peek at whatever it was Maria had been working on the entire time the group had decided they wanted to spend the day lounging outside while doing their homework.

"What are you -" he barely finished his question before Maria placed a dismissive hand on his face and shoved him away. "What the - Maria!"

She snorted in reply. "Yes?"

Knox narrowed his eyes at her, moving to tug one of her curls. "What are you hiding there that I can't look at?" He said, making a show of trying to see what was in her notebook, but huffed dramatically when she slid her hand over her writing, promptly hiding it from view.

"What is it?" His eyes glinted with teasing humour. "Are you writing a love letter to someone, Maria Keating?"

"A love letter?" Neil looked up quickly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Who's writing a love letter?"

"Maria is," Knox said.

"Am not," Maria countered quickly.

Even Todd had looked up from his work to watch the interactions going on around him. He smiled softly, knowing full well that it was a sort of love letter. He had caught glimpses of it while he and Maria studied together the other night, but he said nothing.

"Then why are you hiding it?" Knox wiggled his brows and made a quick dive for her notebook. Unfortunately, Maria was quicker than him and dodged his movements, effectively elbowing him in the gut in the process. "Good God, woman. That hurt."

Maria laughed, about to say something more before she felt her notebook swiftly plucked out of her hands. She looked up at the culprit who had taken advantage of her distracted state and she froze at the sight of Charlie with her brown and white notebook in his hand.

"Charlie," she said, wide-eyed and a little panicked now upon seeing his sly grin, "give that back."

"Not a love letter, eh?" He said, smiling cheekily at her. "You sure about that, doll?"

"You give that back right now, Charlie Dalton," she said sternly, holding out a hand for him.

"And why would I do that?"

"Charlie!"

"Little defensive for something that's not a love letter, don't you think so Meeks? Todd?" Neil chuckled, nudging Meeks with his elbow and nodded at Todd.

Meeks only laughed while Todd shrugged with a smile.

"Alas it's not a love letter," Charlie said. "It's a love poem, gentlemen. Our sweet girl Maria is writing a love poem."

Maria blushed and tried her best to hide her embarrassment. "Charlie, give it back, please."

Charlie ignored her as the others paused their activities to listen. He cleared his throat, expertly holding her notebook out of reach when Maria tried to reach for it. "'Oh, sweet boy of mine, with eyes so bright and smile so kind...'"

Maria flushed bright red. "Charlie Dalton, don't you dare keep reading," she warned, sitting up on her knees to try and grab her notebook again before Charlie could continue.

Charlie stopped to look at her and merely grinned. "'Your gentle touch, like a summer breeze, soothes my troubled heart with ease. You are my rock, my -'"