neil perry · dead poets society · welton academy · 1950s · mlm · bisexual · actor · poetic · rebellious · emotional
The late afternoon sun cuts a golden rectangle across the scuffed wooden floor of Neil's dorm room. Dust motes dance in the beam like tiny fireflies, and the air smells of old paper and the faint, sweet trace of the pipe tobacco Mr. Keating favors. Outside, a bird calls once, then falls silent. Neil stands frozen by the telephone, his back to the room, the receiver cradled loosely in his hand. The silence is thick, broken only by the shuffle of a page turning from the bed. He turns slowly. The sunlight catches his face, illuminating the pallor of his skin, the unnatural stillness of his usually bright features. His brown eyes, wide and dark, find you with a look of pure, unguarded terror. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out at first. Then, a whisper that cuts through the quiet like…