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

EPILOGUE ~ iii.

song of the chapter: i lived by one republic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tiny tendrils of steam drifted up and away from the ceramic mug of tea on the counter, catching in the late-morning sunlight that streamed through the large windows that overlooked a small garden below.

Marigolds and other various, cheerful flowers bloomed - planted by loving, careful hands. It was one of the first things they did when they moved into their new home - after earning their respective degrees, that is.

Their neighbors were quite fond of the young, academic couple. Most of them were older couples, married for many wonderful years. And thus, it was so that they relished in their young, recently bloomed love that would absolutely blossom further.

In fact, it had. The tea, forgotten on the counter, bore witness to the young couple - a gentlemen donning thoughtful glasses and a lady who was hardly seen without a beret - snuggled up together on their cream-colore sofa.

The mounds of quilts and pillows had been shifted to the floor, to make room for a small stack of family albums, books, and snacks. The young lovers were involved in cheerful banter, arguing not so seriously.

"Ada?" the girl, (y/n) gasped, not very impressed.
"What, you don't like it?" the young man, flipping through his family photograph album? squinted at his lovely wife.

"Not really, darling." she sighed, shifting a hand to rest on her abdomen.
"Well, what about Margaret?" he offered gently, trying to tread carefully about this subject. The girl was shocked.
"Steven!" she gasped, pretending to faint dramatically "I am not naming our daughter Margaret. Todd and Neil would never let that go!" He smiled fondly, before remembering the tea.
"Ah," he exclaimed, jumping up to grab the cup and saucer "it's your favorite." She planted a kiss on his cheek gratefully.

"Why, thank you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Years prior to that day spent lazily drifting through names for their already beloved unborn daughter, the couple reunited - as one might expect from university students - over a delicious cup of coffee.
"But, I'm still confused," the girl admitted begrudgingly, with her thinking frown on her face "I thought Neil said you were going to Yale?" Meeks sipped from his cup and set it down gently.
"Actually," he corrected "I was. Only, I changed my major last minute."
"So," she stirred her coffee amicably, gazing into its rich, brown depths. "what made you change your mind? I thought you wanted to pursue economics." The boy scratched his neck awkwardly, not feeling fully confident in his answer.

But, this was (y/n), after all. She wouldn't judge him for speaking his heart's truth. So, he took a deep breath before speaking.
"Honestly," he fiddled with the girl's fingers that sat upon the doilie-clad table. "The Dead Poets taught me that maybe, maybe there is more to life than "noble pursuits"." He made air quotes, quoting her wonderful father. The girl nodded, silently urging him to continue.
"I did not want to spend my life behind a desk, slowly dying of - I dunno, boredom. I would rather do work that kept me learning constantly, about things that I actually enjoy. Not numbers." The girl smiled at his little speech.
"I think that is very admirable, honestly." Meeks flushed a lovely red, all the way up to the tips of his delicate ears.
"Now I'm just hoping I made the right choice," he confided quietly, actual concern for his future lacing onto his studious features.
"Hey," she cooed, tilting his chin up. "even if you don't end up rich with actual currency, think about how rich you'll be in comparison to others." He frowned, auburn eyebrows knit together.
"How so?" (y/n) chuckled.
"You said it yourself," she explained vaguely "there is more to life! Things like, travelling the world, doing a job you love, finding someone to spend your life with."