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

splintered stanzas: breakfast & bittersweet tea

That night, (y/n) slept worse than an insomniac, brilliant mind roiling in the party's events, Knox's hands and his lips, the sheen of Chris's pretty blonde hair. 

It made her sick. 

Everything she thought she knew - about her "excellent" judge of character she thought she inherited from her mother, the trust between her and the Poets, all of it - felt challenged by a split second's decision on her former friend's part. 

The path to recovery, for her, felt as mixed-up as a library cart, each author's name jumbled against the rest - desperate to be sorted into some semblance of beauty. 

The next morning, after peeling off her party clothes with a gag, (y/n) spent a good chunk of the slow, 6th hour of the day trying to pull herself together. Still towel-drying her hair, now dressed in the Welton blazer once more, she argued with all aspects of herself. 

On one hand, she wanted to confide in Mr. Keating because he was closest of everyone to her. She couldn't tell her mother; she'd simply worry an unhealthy amount and wouldn't really help anything much, and the Poets. Oh, the Poets. How was she to tell them that one of their best friends had touched a girl without permission? 

None of them, not even Charlie despite his unbridled character, would ever dream about such a disgusting act. She rolled through her friends, trying to imagine what each of their reactions might be like. Something like this could get Knox kicked out of The Dead Poets Society, and out of Welton for that matter. 

(y/n) quickly came to realize she really did not empathize with the boy who couldn't control his hands, but instead she was anxious over what telling everyone might mean for her. Still, it went against every one of her values to not say something. That's when it hit her. 

She would tell Steven Meeks, the only thing left to figure out was 'how'.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The energy at the table that morning was, as expected, low and not exactly happy. The girl walked into the dining hall just after eight, placed a quick kiss on Meeks' lovely head, and took up her seat next to him. Thankfully, Knox sat at the opposite end of the table, seeming to admire the patterns of his breakfast plate. 

"Good morning," Meeks remarked, casting her his character smile - the darling one that made the browns of his eyes disappear and (y/n)'s heart ache with emotion - before sipping from a coffee cup. 

"Mmm, get all prettied up for me?" she chuckled lightly, happy for his distraction. And, thankfully, her lover handed her the half-finished coffee cup, which she sipped from happily. 

"Oh, no, I'm just always this pretty," he tapped the underside of her chin. "haven't you noticed?" (y/n) rolled her eyes, a smile despite the drama lifted the corners of her mouth. Pitts said something about parts for their radio, which grabbed his attention. The smile fell as soon as his gaze left hers, and luckily Neil swooped in to be the incredible best friend he was. 

He tossed a chunk of toast at her, gaining her attention. 

'What?' she mouthed, confused at his behavior. He motioned for her to lean in closer towards him, angled his brunette head to her level. 

"Hi?" she spoke tentatively, waiting for his response. He beamed, for a second, before his face turned a bit more grim. 

"Hi! Are you okay?" he inquired, concern written plain on his features, failing to notice his play script crumpled under his left elbow. (Y/n) cast a glance towards Knox, who looked on like a puppy whom had been kicked. Except he was the boot, and Chris the puppy. 

"Neil, I appreciate the motherly concern," she tried to convince him "but really, I'm fine! Last night was just - emotionally exhausting." Neil looked at her thoughtfully, brown eyes calculating. 

"Well, okay," he shrugged, sitting back to enjoy some orange juice. "Knox, how was the party last night?" As Neil spoke, he kept his eyes trained on her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Todd must have sensed something was amiss with his beloved, because he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, which made Neil look more relaxed - Knox's awkward coughing threw the entire energy from the two off, though. 

"The party?" he gasped between coughs - having choked on the water he'd been drinking moments before. (y/n), when she felt like staring into her plate, instead forced her steady gaze to meet his nervous one. "Yeah, um, it was great." Charlie swooped into breakfast, late per usual. 

"So," he drawled, snatching the piece of toast Pitts had halfway to his mouth and taking a bite, "make a move on Chris, or what?" (y/n) kept her face blank, only narrowing her eyes slightly at the cause of so many tears the night before. 

Knox looked like he was struggling - squirming, almost - as the witness sat so close to him. "No, no I didn't." the boy sighed, sagging like a ragdoll into a position that didn't look comfortable at all. The boys all exchanged glances with one another, then looked at Meeks' girl. 

She was still looking in Knox's general direction, but had her chess-playing face on, trying to anticipate her opponents next move and planning hers. (y/n) blinked a few times and her mouth quirked up in confusion, for she hadn't expected Knox to feel ashamed. 

No, she thought, he's only ashamed to have been caught. Not ashamed because he did something horrible and awful I hate him I hate him. Bile nearly rose up in her throat, and only her sweet, genius boy tilting her face towards his kept her from letting the few bites she ate make a reappearance on the table. 

"Let's go." he instructed, standing up to lead her away by her hand. From the faculty table, Keating sat and watched them leave the room, conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. He could tell something was amiss with the girl, her usual bright personality seemed to have grown cloudy - although he couldn't imagine why.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When they'd got to her bedroom - she told him everything that happened the night before, everything from Knox's drunken state, to the idiot football players, and then the moments when Chris was sleeping on the sofa. The entire time, Steven was so silent, it unnerved him as she spilled the entire contents that had been weighing down on her for hours. 

Halfway through, she began to cry in earnest, and yet he made no move to comfort her at all. And she was thankful for the distance, because her intuition told her that he was only doing it to keep her feeling safe - in light of what occurred the previous night. 

"I'm so sorry." he said quietly, brown eyes locked onto hers that continued to leak tears. She sniffled, trying to wipe away the tracks upon her cheeks. Tentatively, he reached his hand out to do the task for her, featherlight and giving her the option to back away from his touch. 

Not that she ever would, no matter what Knox did. 

"I don't know what to do," (y/n) admitted, her murmuring barely audible to the boy's ears. He smiled softly at her, tracing patterns on the hands she'd put over her face to hide the blotches she'd had from crying. 

"We'll figure it out," he reassured her gently "I'm a genius, remember?" At that, (y/n) cracked a watery smile and despite her earlier tears, she released a half sob, half chuckle that pulled on Meeks' heartstrings. 

She leaned her forehead onto his shoulder, and he played with her hair as the pair sat in silence, letting the truth was over them both and find a way to keep The Dead Poets Society together. 

For a few moments, the world seemed to still like that day on the stone tower, although laced with a more bittersweet undertone of emotion. Still, it was beautiful to (y/n). 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───