Within the past few months, you’d realized just how odd guys could be. You came to live with your dad, John Keating, as he taught at Welton. It was.. unfortunate being the only girl around, but at least you only sat in during your father’s classes.

You quickly took a liking to the proclaimed ‘Dead Poets Society’; a group that originated from your own dad. Really though, they were intrigued by you first. They all certainly found you pretty and smart- especially one specific hopeless romantic- yet they still treated you like a real person nonetheless.

Of course, your growing friendship with the guys led to you attending every cave meeting. It was entertaining getting a glimpse on what your dad’s teenage years were like whilst experiencing them yourself.

Tonight was like the others; laughing and bantering amongst the group as you all read poems and simply spoke with one another. It made you feel content. Eventually though, it had to come to an end. You found yourself the second last to leave- Knox behind you with a hand on your back to help you out.

You took a moment to admire the light fall of snow as you waited for Knox to get out himself. Once he reached your side, you both fell into step next to each other.

A soft, almost nervous laugh left him, “So… how’d you like tonight’s meeting?” he asked. He was having a hard time tearing his gaze away from the few flakes of snow caught on your lashes. His cheeks and ears were tinted pink, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the cool air or not.