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

EPILOGUE~ i.

"Wait!" Not much more than a wheeze, a waving arm.

People had often told the boy that instead of spending his days pursuing academic studies, he should try out sports - his own father had suggested rugby.

Steven Meeks, however, had chosen to continue burying his face in scholarly texts, earning the highest grade possible, dedicating his entire life to the pursuit of education.

Now, as he chased after the automobile that carried his love away from him, he'd realized he would have traded every grade he'd ever gotten just to see her again. She'd been expelled, the boy's own heart shattering at the idea that she'd leave Welton, America in general, and the fact that they might never see each other again.

At this thought, his body spurred into more action, legs pumping and heart beating wildly as he tried to get their attention as they drove away.

When she'd told the Dead Poets Society the news, it was safe to say that he had not taken it well. In fact, he barely said goodbye. But, then again, he figured that the girl didn't bid him farewell for the same reason he avoided her before her departure - it felt too painful to bear.

Until very recently, Steven Meeks failed to see anything else in life besides his education. Acing that Latin test and being top of the class were his goals, constantly. However, this girl came out of nowhere and swept him off his feet - everything he thought he knew about life out the window.

She had showed him that there was more to life than education - that love and making memories with his friends was infinitely more precious.

He was so incredibly thankful for her, that even when his lungs burned, he continued running.

The car and its precious cargo had nearly made it to the end of the drive, and Meeks recognized dimly that his friends were calling his name.

But he wouldn't stop. Not until he said a proper goodbye.

Finally - blessedly - the car's brake lights flashed and it stopped moving farther from him altogether.

"(y/n)!" he wheezed, bending over at the waist to catch his breath as the girl stepped out of the vehicle. As he caught his breath, he gazed at her - so that this picture of his girl might live prominently in his memory, to keep him from forgetting her.

But every hug, loving banter, stolen kisses between classes, and poems written for her eyes only; those memories would latch onto his very soul and not let him ever forget her.

"Meeks?" she exclaimed rushing over to his side and brushing his auburn waves away from his sweaty brow "Are you insane?" The boy huffed a tired laugh, throat burning.

"Yes, and it's all your fault," he spoke between deep gulping breaths. The girl tipped her head back and laughed. What little sunlight made it through the dense clouds glinted off her hair, giving her a sunny aura.

He imagined - quite accurately - it was like seeing a goddess stand out in a crowd.

"Well, I wouldn't want to take all the credit," she shrugged, helping him stand properly. By now, he'd mostly recovered from his mini-marathon. Never again, he vowed.

...Unless he was being a stupid teenager in love. If that was the case, he'd chase her forever.

"I wanted to, um, say goodbye, " His words felt awkward, which hardly ever happened when he talked to her.

"I'm listening," she said gently, tracing shapes onto his palms, sending tickles all the way up his arm.

"I'll call you. All the time, and send you letters too!" he promised, smile faltering "not having you here is going to be agony." He could tell by the way her face softened even further at what he admitted that she loved him - truly and deeply.