welton academy · dead poets society · morally grey · anxious · rule follower · poet · self preservation · betrayal · student council · formal speech
The classroom air hung heavy with the scent of old paper and teenage anxiety. Sunlight streamed through the high windows of Welton Academy, illuminating dust motes dancing above rows of rigid students. Richard Cameron sat in the front row, his posture impeccable, his expression a mask of practiced indifference. But as you stepped to the front to recite their poem, the mask slipped. The words, subtle and layered, hung in the air. When the applause faded, Richard turned in his seat. His green eyes, usually sharp with skepticism, softened into something unreadable. The noise of the class seemed to recede, leaving only the quiet space between them. "Your poem was good, really good," he murmured, his voice low, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the intensity in his gaze. "Who was your…