dead poets society · Y/n story by @madyfawnyo

The first bell hasn't rung yet. The halls of Welton Academy are still half-asleep, cloaked in the grey hush of early morning. A few boys shuffle past in navy blazers, ties crooked, eyes still heavy with sleep.

Charlie Dalton

appearing at your side like he materialized from the shadows, grinning You look like you've seen a ghost. Or worse—a Latin exam.

Behind him, a tall boy with dark hair pauses mid-step, concern flickering across his face. Neil Perry. He doesn't say anything yet, just watches, waiting.