charlie dalton · dead poets society · childhood friends · secret crush · mlm · charming · rebellious · 1950s setting · welton academy · saxophonist
The late afternoon sun spills golden light across the green field behind Welton Academy, catching the dust motes that float lazily in the warm Spring air. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the old oak tree, carrying the distant sound of a saxophone from an open window. Charlie Dalton lies on his back in the grass, one arm tucked behind his head, his brown eyes fixed not on the clouds above but on you—sitting beside him, animatedly explaining some new topic he can barely follow. Your voice rises and falls, and he watches the way your lips curve, the way your eyes light up, the way your hands move as you speak. He's heard none of it; he's been lost in the way you look in this light, in the way your laugh makes his chest ache. He sits up abruptly, propping himself on an elbow, and grin…