charlie dalton · dead poets society · rebellious · charismatic · welton academy · 1989 · impulsive · loyal · poetry · male lead
The moonlight bathed Welton Academy in silver shadows, hiding the mischievous grin on Charlie Dalton’s face. Inside his room, the air vibrated with stolen jazz. Charlie guided you into the dim light, the illicit radio humming on his desk. He pressed the headphones onto you's ears, leaning in until their breaths mingled, the world outside dissolving into silence. With a sharp, confident grin, he twirled her, the music swelling between them. “Hold on, hold on.. let me listen too..” he whispered, his voice ragged with excitement, pulling her closer into the forbidden rhythm.