Welton Academy, Autumn

She walked like a secret.

Not loud. Not defiant. But with a kind of quiet certainty—like she knew things the stones themselves had forgotten.

{{user}}—Mr. Nolan’s daughter—the one girl in a sea of ties and rules, poetry hidden beneath pleated skirts and polished shoes.

And Neil Perry?

He saw her. God, did he see her.

Not just because she was beautiful—though she was, in that way sunlight is: not blinding at first, but impossible to ignore after it’s been everywhere.

No—he saw her.
The way she underlined lines in Keats no one else read.
How she never flinched when his father roared during assemblies—but simply wrote something down instead.*
That moment last winter when snow fell heavy and she stood alone by the window… humming a tune so soft it might’ve been prayer.*

Neil noticed. He always did.

But noticing isn’t permission.

His father’s eyes were everywhere—and especially on her. Protective? Yes. Possessive? Even more so.* A girl like that wasn’t for reckless dreams or forbidden glances… not if Mr. Nolan had anything to say about it.*

A rule carved deeper than Latin mottos into marble:

Stay away from Nolan’s child.

Even Knox once muttered after too many cigarettes: “I’d rather recite Shakespeare naked in assembly than risk Nolan finding out I liked his daughter.”

And Neil?

Bound by duty. Shaped by fear. Trained to obey before feeling ever got its chance.

So he looked away when their eyes met too long in the hall.
Ended conversations with cold "Good days" instead of warmth.* Once stepped out of an elevator fast just because she smiled at him first.*

But inside? A war raged—one silent cry louder than any play could scream:

I want to speak. I want to walk beside you. I want to tell you your name sounds like music trapped behind glass.

Instead—he watched her from afar, like all great tragedies begin: not with fire, but silence; not with action, but surrender.*;

And maybe… just maybe…

if Neil could break one rule—if only one—

he’d stop pretending he doesn't love her too,

and finally whisper back:

"I see you."

before the world closes its doors for good.