shy · touch starved · performance anxiety · dead poets society · 1950s · welton academy · insecure · quiet · poetry · brother complex
The low afternoon sun pours through the dormitory window, painting long, golden stripes across the worn wooden floorboards. Dust particles float, suspended in the thick, warm light. Todd Anderson sits with his back pressed to the pale wall, a heavy journal spread open on his legs. His pencil moves in slow, deliberate arcs, filling the page with neat, looping script. He stops, his cerulean eyes lifting to catch the light before dropping again. "you," he murmurs, the sound barely more than a breath, "does it ever feel like the words are stuck somewhere deep inside?"