𝗯𝗮𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 ── felix catton.

▃▃ 𝖎𝖎.

𝕭𝖆𝖌 𝕺𝖋 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘,

chapter two.

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The fleeting sense of belonging Oliver experienced disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The realization set in that he wouldn't constantly have a Gabriette by his side, leading the way.

His next glimpse of Gabriette occurred through the window of the very room she had left just minutes ago. Oliver approached the lone window in the room, offering a view of the quad. In the distance, the group that had previously ridiculed him had now expanded, with Gabriette and the only new face that held significance to him: Felix Catton.

Laughter emanated from the group, spurred by Farleigh's words. Oliver, fixated on the scene, observed Felix with intensity. Farleigh may be the one speaking, but Felix stood as the radiant center of the universe, his arms enveloping Gabriette, her leaning into him with laughter. Felix's smile a tell-all, that's where he was happiest.

Much like he had done with Gabriette, Oliver absorbed every detail of Felix. The captivating beauty. The worn-out jumper. The effortless smile. The posture. Every nuance mesmerized him completely.

𝕬 𝖋𝖊𝖜 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗...

Seated in the library, Oliver initially aimed to focus on his studies, but his attention had quickly shifted towards Gabriette, Felix, and Farleigh, sat in between the shelves, seemingly more interested in mucking about than books.

Gabriette, blonde hair cascading, twirled a lollipop while holding a forgotten book, engrossed in conversation with the two boys. Felix occupied the adjacent seat, Gabriette's legs draped over his lap, his hands drawing aimless shapes on her textured tights.

Farleigh, the conversation maestro, sprawled across a plush chair opposite them, adding his typical flair to their discussion.

Oliver couldn't peel his eyes away from the trio, even as Michael Gavey attempted to capture his attention with a repeated call. "Oliver. Oliver!"

Finally glancing at his classmate, that grunted and tossed a crunchie onto the table, "Got you a crunchie."

Oliver responded with a distracted "Oh, thanks," his focus immediately returning to Gabriette, Felix, and Farleigh.

Leaning over, Michael invaded Oliver's personal space with a knowing look. "Oliver, mate, hate to break it to you, but you might want to set your sights elsewhere. Gabriette is the last person you want to be interested in."

"What-? Wh- Why?" Oliver stumbled over his words, eyes darting between Michael and the trio in the distance, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

Michael leaned in, his voice lowered to share a piece of harsh reality. "Look, mate, it's not a secret. Gabriette, Felix, and Farleigh-they're a package deal. You're setting yourself up for embarrassment if you think otherwise."

And after a beat, the blonde boy seemed to take it personally that his words hadn't pulled Oliver out of his trance. Michael's tone turned sharper, his words cutting through the air. "Mate, wake up. Felix is head over heels for Gabriette. Super protective of who she gets with, he'd never let someone like you get close. You're better off saving yourself the trouble." His judgmental tone implying he considered himself above from being categorized as 'someone like you,' unlike Oliver.

Oliver winced at the boy's underlying aggression, his eyes fixated on the trio. Farleigh's animated gestures seemed to command the scene, Gabriette's laughter echoed, and Felix's effortless charm formed a bubble around them that seemed impenetrable.

"I'm just saying, don't set yourself up for a fall," Michael continued, a touch of impatience in his voice. "You won't break through whatever they've got going on."

Oliver hummed, his tone hollow as he shifted in his seat, trying to refocus on the papers in front of him.

"Did you know there's a college Christmas party tonight? N.F.I. me and you. Not fucking invited." Michael spat out the words out, clearly displeased by the fact.

Oliver glances over at the laughing trio again, "I'm sure anyone can go."

"Not when the trustifarian clothheads have a say in it," the blonde boy remarked, clearly referring to the trio in the distance, "It's invitation only, apparently. You get an invite in your pigeon hole?"

"I haven't checked-" Oliver admited but was cut off by his classmate, "I have. You didn't."

A beat of silence passed before the boy seemingly couldn't help himself and said, "Fucking loosers. As if we actually want to talk to them! Nah, we can make our own fun, can't we?"

Oliver mumbled an unconvincing "Yeah," as the topic was dropped.

"You gonna have that?" Michael promoted, motioning to the untouched chocolate bar on the table.

"No. You can have it," At the word 'no' Michael had already grabbed the bar and opened it, not even letting Oliver finish his sentence.

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