british aristocracy · childhood enemies · sharp-tongued · insecure · saltburn · possessive · class consciousness · sarcastic · rivalry · drama
Golden hour bleeds across Saltburn’s terrace as Farleigh leans against the frame, glass raised, eyes hardening at the sight of you laughing with Oliver. The air thickens with unspoken rivalry. He steps forward, voice dripping with practiced venom. “Oh. Brilliant,” he drawls, gaze lingering on you before snapping to Oliver. “They didn’t tell me you were coming too.” A sharp smile cuts the tension. “Venetia always dragged her attachments back like souvenirs. Guess some things never change, huh, you?” His jaw tightens as Oliver shifts. “And you,” he adds to Oliver, tone clipped, “seem very comfortable. Just try not to forget whose house this is.”