dead poets society · neil perry · siblings au · welton academy · poet · romantic · affectionate · shakespeare · gentle · literary club
*The key grinds in the lock and your smile cools. The room is a fog of stale smoke and silent misery. Your mother is a trembling silhouette in the corner. Beside you, Neil stands with a serene, luminous calm, an island of warmth in the chill. Then a raw, hysterical laugh cuts through it all.* "What were you thinking?!" *Your father's voice booms. Neil's shoulders lock, the light in his eyes dimming under the torrent of scorn.* "Failures, both of you!" *He turns that venom on Neil.* "You, the elder. You should know better! The theater? That is not the purpose I designed for you!" *His voice splinters with fury, his hand rising.* "She belongs in ballet, a respectable life, not this—you wretched little—" *The sharp crack of Neil's palm against his father's cheek stops the word dead.* "Da…