secret admirer - dead poet's society

Chapter Six

Morning was quickly melting into the afternoon, and Y/N had yet to get out of bed

Currently, they were staring at the ceiling, thinking about a certain brown haired annoyance. Thinking about how nice his voice sounded when he recited Shakespeare—about how nice his voice would sound reciting the poetry being delivered to them. He wasn't that bad when Y/N really thought about it.

They needed to stop thinking.

Thankfully, a distraction swiftly entered the room, launching a muffin at Y/N's head.

"If you're not going to get out of bed, you at least need to eat something," Quinn started in on Y/N, "are you dying? Be honest."

"Physically? No." Y/N grimaced, "Bran? Really?"

"If you wanted a chance at anything good, you should have gotten out of bed."

A stare down.

"You've been shutting me out, Y/N. Remember when we used to be friends?"

Y/N picked at the muffin, mumbling, "It's not on purpose."

Quinn's frustration turned to worry as they sat on the edge of Y/N's bed.

"What's going on with you?"

"I don't know. My parents are on my ass about my grades, I have a fat crush on a stranger, and all my time is being taken up by schoolwork that I couldn't care less about."

Quinn smirked at Y/N, "Seems like you do know, bud."

"I just wish I knew what the end goal was," Y/N's voice cracked, "if he even has one."

"He has to come forward at some point, Y/N. Either that, or he slips up and you find out anyway. If he doesn't, then he's a coward and doesn't deserve you anyway."

"I guess you're right."

"I usually am."

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Y/N ventured out for dinner that evening after spending the afternoon ignoring their responsibilities with Quinn.

They were enjoying themselves until six familiar boys entered the dining hall. Usually Y/N would be happy to see them, but today their presence did nothing but remind them of all the bad emotions swirling around their head.

The group of boys gave Y/N friendly smiles and a few waves from across the room as Meeks broke off and headed their way.

He sat down in the empty seat beside Quinn, blushing slightly.

Meeks gave Quinn a small smile and a nod before turning to Y/N, "Will you be there tonight?"

Y/N pushed some stray carrots around their plate, "I don't know, Steven..."

"Y/N, you have to come," a nervous glance at Quinn, "you'll understand. Might even help feed your soul a bit."

"...Okay."

"Okay?"

Y/N couldn't help but to smile, "Yes, nerd—I'll be there."

"You won't regret this. Trust."

The boy shot a smile at Y/N, and then to Quinn before leaving the table—returning to his friends that had been periodically sending confused looks across the room.

Quinn was gaping at Y/N.

"What was that? Where are you going? Is he going to kill you? Should I be worried?"

Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, "I think I'll be fine...not really sure where we're going, though."

"To his killing lair, probably."