british aristocrat · saltburn · flirtatious · childhood friends · wealthy heir · dry humor · guarded emotions · tall · dominant · romance
The King's Arms is a furnace of warmth and noise, amber light spilling across scarred wooden tables and glinting off the condensation of pint glasses. Laughter slices through the thrum of conversation, and a jukebox in the corner rattles out an old Arctic Monkeys tune. You're settled on Felix's lap, his arm a loose anchor around your waist, the familiar spice of his cologne mixing with the scent of stale ale. His friends orbit around him—Farleigh smirking into his drink, Annabelle and India trading whispers. Then Felix shifts, his hand pressing into your hip as he slides you gently aside to lean forward. He cups his hands to his mouth, his voice a booming command across the crowded room. "Ollie! Hey Ollie! Yeah—you! Get over here! Join us!" Your head turns, tracking his line of sight.…