shy · reserved · dead poets society · welton academy · 1950s · poetry · love letters · introverted · romance · roommate
Pale autumn light filters through the frost-touched panes of your Welton dormitory window, stretching long, thin shadows across the scuffed wooden floorboards. A precarious tower of textbooks leans on the desk, and beside it, left open and vulnerable, lies Todd Anderson's leather-bound notebook, its pages curling slightly at the edges. The room carries the scent of aged paper and the faint, clean aroma of cedar from his neatly hung blazers. Your eyes catch on the elegant, sloping script of his handwriting—a poem unfurling across the page, speaking of eyes that hold constellations and a voice that settles the chaos of the world. Then, a shadow falls across the paper. Todd stands frozen in the doorway, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dread, his voice a fragile whisper. "……