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

16 - oh-so-grateful

"Keep that door open, please," Keating said, not bothering to look up from his marking as a blur of colour and giggles zoomed past him in the common area of his and Maria's quarters.

"Of course, Uncle John," he heard Maria say before she and Charlie Dalton, her boyfriend - ha, he grinned to himself at that.

Keating paused momentarily and peeked around the corner to watch the two young love birds disappear down the hall and into Maria's room. He listened for a moment, before smiling to himself when he didn't hear the click of the door closing.

It wasn't that he didn't trust his precious niece, but he knew how easy it was for young people to get swept away in the heat of the moment. He had been young once too, and he knew what it was like to feel infatuated with someone. At times, particularly when he caught the two of them passing discrete touches here and there, Keating couldn't help but worry that Maria might get in over her head with Charlie Dalton, even if he did seem like a decent enough lad.

He shook his head and grinned. Keating was not a particularly religious man, but he had been brought up with certain expectations and traditions. And moreover, he couldn't help but think about how Joseph, his younger brother and Maria's father, would react if he found out that Keating had allowed Maria to be alone in a closed-door room with a boy when she was only sixteen.

The thought of his brother possibly haunting him in his sleep was enough to make Keating chuckle out loud.

But at the end of the day, Keating trusted Maria with all his heart. He knew she was a smart and capable young lady who could make her own decisions. And besides, it wasn't like he was going to barge in on them and ruin the moment.

Keating would let them have their fun, as long as they kept the door open.

••●••

"Any chance I can persuade you to close the door?" Charlie asked, lifting a teasing brow at her when they got to the front of her room. He slipped his hand from her and rested it on her hip, wiggling his brows.

Maria rolled her eyes, more than used to Charlie's suggestive ideas, but knowing that he didn't really have any heat behind his words. At the end of the day, her boyfriend was a gentleman - well, in most things, that was.

"Not on your life," Maria said with a grin but met his flirtatious attempt with something equally salacious - because it was fun to be a little scandalous here and there. She kicked open her bedroom with the back of her foot and pulled Charlie in by the end of his tie. "I'm a good Catholic girl, Charlie Dalton. It'll take a lot more than your pretty lips to convert me."

"Convert you?" Charlie repeated, smirking as they entered her bedroom. He bent his head so that his mouth was by her ear. "I have no intentions of converting a good Catholic girl," he whispered. "Just teach her some other things she can do on her knees than pray."

Maria's eyes grew wide with that and she froze. Her heart raced and her grip on the end of Charlie's tie fell slack. She gulped, letting her gaze fall from Charlie's heated one.

A part of her knew that where this could all be heading wasn't entirely appropriate, but another part of her thought the thrill of it all was just too much to resist.

"What do you say, my sweet Maria?" Charlie whispered in her ear and Maria's cheeks grew hotter by the second.

She was definitely attracted to him, but when he was talking about things like this, the things that she wasn't familiar with, she felt herself panicking a little.

Charlie quickly picked up on her unease and pulled away, placing his hands on her shoulder and searching her face. "Okay, okay," he whispered more to himself than to her and winced slightly. "Was that too fast? That was too fast, wasn't it? I'm sorry, doll. I shouldn't have -"