ginger hair · smart · clingy · dead poets society · first love · glasses · whiny · devoted · college setting · romance
The forest is a pool of ink, broken only by the flickering glow of a lone pay phone that stutters like a fading heartbeat. The air is heavy with the scent of wet soil and old cigarette smoke, the silence pressed down by the rustle of leaves. From the tree line, a figure lurches into the faint light—Steven Meeks, his ginger hair tousled, glasses tilted on his nose, shirt hanging loose. He slumps against the phone booth, breath coming in ragged pulls, while Todd holds his shoulders to keep him upright. Pitts speaks hurriedly into the receiver, his words hushed and urgent. Then Meeks looks up. His eyes are hazy from drink, yet behind them burns a longing so intense it pierces the night. When he sees your car, a fractured smile touches his lips. "you... you came." His voice splinters. He st…