Archive of Our Own ^beta

Spring arrives with much flair.

The lake slowly unthaws, giving way to the lounging around of boys desperate for a swim. The garden blooms, waking with a jolt from its deep slumber, and bringing with it the colours of a dream. The world sluggishly shrugs off its icy coat. And amidst it all, Todd Anderson rips out another page.

It's an elementary assignment, really; Mr Keating had told them to let the poet inside them be 'free' — whatever that means — and to write whatever comes to mind first, even if it feels like nonsense.

Todd is stumped. He has been sitting here, underneath this tree (apparently the only place with shade), for almost two hours, he realises, with an exceptionally painful stretch — writing and rewriting, tearing and crumpling, trying to find something that truly makes him feel the passion(?) that Keating was talking about.

He just thinks that there are a lot of things that he feels for, is passionate about — the soft tides in the lake, the rustling of the leaves, the embers left behind from the fire in the cave, the slight smudge of ink on pages filled long ago. The way the sun rays gently glide over Neil in the morning, the way he slightly scrunches up his eyebrows, slipping into that blissful state between sleep and consciousness. 

The way Neil is laughing from his spot on the grass, at some stupid joke Charlie made, his unbridled glee apparent in the open lines of his face.

Todd thinks back to the flying desk set, the exhilaration he felt when the papers rose up before him. He thinks about the leisurely Saturday mornings, and the way Neil wakes him, like the sun peeking out from the deep foliage after days of rain.

He slowly dips his pen into the inkpot beside him, and puts it to paper again. If this time he writes with a smile on his face and a few occasional glances towards Neil, it's nobody's business but his.

~~~~~~~

"Todd! Todd!" Neil shouts as he sweeps into the room, "They're putting on Twelfth Night at Henley Hall!" Neil plops down beside Todd on the bed, "and — god I've wanted this for so long!"

Todd closes his notebook and turns towards Neil, like he always does, like he hopes he never has to stop doing; with the early signs of a smile on his face and asks, "You're auditioning?"

"Auditi--, of course I'm auditioning, goofball! This is— well, this is everything! It's a thousand lives! Imagine it Todd, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. This is the one play that I've always wanted to do. It's such a brilliant play really, and —"

"Wh-What part are you going to audition for?" Todd looks up at Neil, practically bouncing about their room, now, akin to a firefly prancing about in a field.

You are the light that playfully jumps on the stage, you are the moment the orchestra crescendoes, you are the applause that rings out. 

He is entranced by the sheer joy on his face; so much so that he cannot help but find himself excited about Neil's play.

 "Orsino, obviously, like, he's such a complex character. I mean, he's so — so dramatic! He's so consumed with love as a concept that he remains oblivious to his own reality. He — You," Todd is jolted out of his thoughts by Neil poking him with his finger, "you're going to help me run lines, aren't you?"

"Uhhh, well, I mean —"

 "Well c'mon Todd! Acting frees up the heart and soul. It'll be fun! And it might help with Keating's assignment, you know? Like, there's so much passion in the play, it's impossible to not get inspired." Neil shrugs.

And how could Todd ever say no? It's inevitable to fall into orbit when he lives with the literal embodiment of the sun. The gravity of Neil is too strong to refuse, when all he ever wants is for Neil to always keep asking, to always drag him along like he belongs beside him.

 ~~~~~~~

“So…I wrote a poem for Chris—”, Knox says, already pulling the godforsaken poem out of his pocket, “Ahem, yeah – Her sea blue eyes look—”

A chorus of “Nooo’s” goes around, followed by a retching sound from Charlie. 

“Did he just say ‘orbs’?” Todd whispers to Neil, who snorts. They’re huddled up in Neil’s coat together (Todd sacrificed his own today to put food on), and it is just… ever so warm.

“Sooo do we all agree to not acknowledge that poem exists?” Meeks says, which is followed by various noises of agreement from the others.

“Guys– No, c’mon! It’s not that bad!” Knox tries.

“Yeah sure, Knoxious; have you, by any chance, considered the profession of a jester?”

“Here we go again.”

“Hmm, not really, but YOU definitely have a lot of experience there, Mr. ‘Phone Call from God’.”

“First of all—”

“Okay, okay, calm down you two; I've got some news,” Neil says, standing up and moving to the front of the cave, commanding their attention (although Knox and Charlie do still glare at each other). After all, Neil reigns in every room, like it's a stage made for him to light up.

“So, today at practice, Ginny — you know her; she played Hermia? Chet Danburry’s sister? — Yeah, so she told me that there’s a carnival happening in town, and it's HUGE apparently, and I was thinking that maybe–”, He sneaks a glance at Todd, only to see him already looking back, smiling. He smiles back, “ — maybe we could go… together.”

“Neil, that's ridiculous. I mean, how would we even go? Welton definitely won't allow us to go to a carnival of all places,” Cameron reasons.

“We sneak out like, literally every night, dumbass,” Charlie fires back, lighting up a smoke (and immediately dissolving into a coughing fit).

“But—”

“Ughh Cameron, don't you get anything,” Charlie exclaims, rolling his eyes.

“I– I think it's a good idea. We… haven't really gone out since Neil's play,” A voice from the back says, whispering, yet sure.

“Yeah, Todd’s right, it'll be fun! It's been so damn long since we've done something silly like this— we could really use a break right now.”

A cacophony of excited sounds erupts from the cave, lighting it up in the dark night. If joy were something tangible, something that could be seen as clearly as colour, the woods would have a rusty glow to them by now.

“So… we're going… tomorrow?” Knox asks, already getting up from his perch on the rock and gesturing about what they'll do; and the things he'll buy for Chris (which earns him six twin glares).

“Tomorrow then; Mission: Whimsy.”

~~~~~~~

Todd catches Neil's eyes amidst the crowd.

Todd had been dragged away by Knox, who had pleaded with Todd to help him pick out a gift for Chris. 

“Please Todd, you're the only helpful one. It won't even take that long!”

Neil, on the other hand, had been tempted into going with Charlie to a bakery.

“Neil… there's BROWNIES. It's alright if you want to stare at the back of Todd's head—”

“I was NOT doing that—”

“ —or come with me to get chocolate paradise. I mean, the choice’s pretty clear—”

So now Todd stands, holding a balloon Knox bought for Chris (obviously), glances towards Neil— who also holds a balloon Charlie probably coaxed him into buying— and sees him already looking back. He catches Neil's eyes amidst the crowd and… something shifts.

It feels monumental somehow, like the first drop of rain after years of drought, like breathing air after almost drowning. His whole life was spent finding a meaning that always seemed to elude him, but now he looks into Neil's eyes and thinks: Eureka.

And for the first time, he lets his heart guide him.

Slowly, his fingers loosen around the string of the balloon, as he lets go of his heart, hoping for Neil to catch it, and keep it next to his own. He lets the balloon float into the air. He looks up at the bright red against the black night sky and thinks: this is it.

If I go to hell, I hope you're there to hold my hand.

 Neil has never been more sure of anything. He lets the balloon float away.

I will always be there beside you.

There in the night sky, unbeknownst to anyone, two balloons meet in the clouds— waltzing through their journey to the stars.

And there in a small room, two souls find their way back to each other, and share a kiss.

Love doesn't happen in a moment of clarity, it creeps its way into one's heart, and finds a way to make every moment just a little more rose-tinted.

~~~~~~~

You pass me by like a train, and I,

I merely shudder like the tracks.

I whisper your name into the night,

Hoping you don't hear it in the wind.

You're the bonfire I light,

On the journeys that seem endless to me.

I see these wooden locks on our eyes,

Open them with the key of subtlety.

The night is endless, the evening remains—

Change my fate into something grey.

When I think of you,

I pop, for I am but a bubble made of water.

It comes

as no surprise that I,

I am irrevocably in love with you.

~Todd Anderson