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

darkest before dawn~

song of the chapter: skyfall by adele <3 this literally gives me chills i can't-

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Waiting for her turn to be questioned about the events regarding the Dead Poets Society was agony in its rawest form. She was not nervous, because facing these men and obscuring the truth was not exactly something she, as a woman in a man's world, was unused. 

No, what unnerved her was taking Meeks into her arms after he visited Mr. Nolan's office. The way he'd left her an anxious mess and returned in even worse shape - empty and devoid of the boy she loved. 

And by God, in that moment, she hated Nolan with her entire heart. 

"Meeks?" Todd Anderson's voice flew under the doorway, concerned and curious. Meeks lifted his tear-stained face from the girl's shoulder to reply. 

"Go away," he called tiredly "I have to study." A lie, she knew - but all he wanted was to be left alone to his trauma which she openly accepted to bear with him, to help him through. 

"What happened to Nuwanda?" Todd asked after a short period of hesitation. 

"Expelled." Meeks' reply was curt and clipped, his tone betraying how he felt. Oh, how her heart ached for him. 

"It's going to be all right, Todd," she called out softly to him, encouraging to be with Neil and wait the storm out. But alas, the blonde ceased to relent. 

"What'd you tell them?" At this, Meeks paused and didn't meet (y/n)'s sad eyes. She gave him a reassuring stroke to his cheek.

"Nothing they didn't already know," the auburn-haired boy muttered, almost ashamed of having caved into their cruelty. (y/n) couldn't find it in herself to blame him, though. 

She heard Hager call Todd's name, and somehow her heart knew she would go next, for it immediately began beating rapidly in fear. It was some minutes of silence before the scuffle of feet, a door closing, and Hager's voice once more. 

"(y/n) (y/l/n)." Even his voice seemed to change when her name rolled off his tongue, turning sour and his face looked as if he'd eaten something rotten. 

With a kiss to Steven's forehead and a few muttered words of comfort, she left the safety of his room and stepped into the hall. 

It had never seemed so long, so daunting. The Victorian Era architecture she'd always admired, but now everything seemed to laugh and ridicule her. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she made a mental note to jot down a poem about how cruel inanimate objects could be. 

"Come along, hurry up," Hager chastised as her heeled shoes clicked against the hardwood. She felt like Marie Antionette, strutting up to meet her death by guillotine. If that was the case, she'd leave this world a true queen - her head held high and a half smile on her face. 

"Ah, shall we? I've a book that's just calling my name," she drawled, breezing past him on quick feet and towards the fated room. It was a somber stroll, not that she minded. Hager jogged so that he might lead her to her academic doom, and they ascended the dark staircase - drawing closer to the unknown. 

One thing (y/n) knew for certain, she would not let this school ruin Mr. Keating. She wouldn't betray any information - whether they knew it or not - that might lead to more "incriminating" offenses done by the students who were simply looking for passion in the midst of Welton's oppressive life.