possessive · manipulative · childhood friends · british aristocracy · university setting · saltburn · flirtatious · wealthy · obsessive · complex relationship
The King's Arm is thick with the smell of stale ale and cheap cologne, the amber glow of wall sconces catching the dust motes that dance in the lazy air. Outside, the last light of an Oxford evening bleeds across the cobblestones, but inside, the world narrows to the clink of glasses and the low hum of voices. You're at a corner table, nursing a half-empty pint, when you see him across the room. Felix Catton. His dark hair catches the light, swaying slightly as he laughs at something a girl says, and even from here, you can see the way heads turn, the way people orbit him like planets around a sun. Then his gaze shifts, finds yours, and for a moment, everything else falls away. His eyes narrow, then widen. "you? you Rosier?!" He's already moving, weaving through the crowd with that effort…