Chapter Text
He feels numb as he shuts the door. Wants to collapse against it. Stumbling down the hall, he leaves the building, out into the morning. His path is as directionless as he feels now.
Ollie. His Ollie.
His Ollie never existed. His Ollie wanted him fucking dead. Almost killed him. Avoided him. Admitted to trying to kill him. Why would he do that?
The ground beneath him feels like it could give. Like he should collapse against it and scream. Dig his fingers into the earth and beg to be taken back. Back to before. With His Oliver.
The one who looked at him like that. Who let him wrestle him around, the constant physical contact, who followed after him, who revolved around him. Maybe that is selfish.
Maybe.
He can't cry. Won't cry. That's not what Felix does. He is supposed to remain unaffected when someone leaves his life. Move through them. They mean nothing. People are placeholders.
Constantly changing to get close to his family. Saltburn. To get a taste of it.
Never to get close to him.
Maybe that's why... Why he let Oliver so close. He wanted him to be different. Needed him to be. With his soft eyes and easy conversation.
But no. Oliver was never someone he knew.
He wonders if anyone actually knows Oliver. Not the poor boy. But the well-off black sheep of the family. Constantly wanting to be alone. Except if it was with Felix.
It's odd. He thinks. Maybe deliriously. That he is the only one who knows what Oliver is capable of. His only friend.
He loves me. And he wants me dead.
He huffs a little laugh. Staring into the sky as he shuffles along the road.
Blinking back from his hazy thoughts, he realizes where he is. The river. Where he shared his family tradition with Oliver. He never told anyone about that. Why did he have to say that to him? Divulging secrets to that man. Make himself vulnerable.
Ollie gazing up at him with wet blue eyes on his dorm floor, lost and alone. Felix had felt bad at the time, like his dismissal of Oliver had brought some divine karma down on his family.
Because he felt terrible about his not-so-dead father stumbling and cracking his head open on the pavement?
Because he wanted to help in some way?
Because he wanted someone to play with and worship him for a little while?
Because he looked at Felix in a way that made him feel like an actual person?
Because Oliver was the only one to ever care about Felix and not Felix Catton?
Or… so he thought.
Knows now it was all just Oliver. He knew exactly how to get and keep Felix's attention. Played him like a fucking fiddle.
Maybe he left his phone out on purpose. Wanted Felix to see that he had been lying. To know that it was all an act. Reflect all of his flaws back onto him. Rip the rug out from under him. Make a fool of him.
Right before executing him in his own maze. Fucking Hell.
He thinks he should be angrier than he is as he hops to sit on the bridge's ledge. Gazing down at the lazy water below. But there is no more anger. He feels drained. Exhausted. Stretched out like he had a long night at the club. But there are no eager bodies to take back with him and fumble in the dark.
There's nothing left of him, a thin sheet in the shape of a man. Why does he have to feel this way? This deep and unending ache in his chest. It is foreign. This isn't right.
Why did Oliver have to lie? Why did he have to… Felix would have -.
Felix doesn't know what the fuck he would have done. Or should have done. Maybe Oliver is right; he wouldn't have even looked at him without his sob story. Not interesting enough. The overlooked dolly; not pretty enough to be picked up, not ugly enough to be pulled off. Perfectly plain.
But he wasn't plain. He was everything but plain. So pretty as he looked up at him through his lashes, horns sprouting from his head like they belonged there. Straight out of Shakespeares play. Out of mythology. Those all-knowing eyes stared right through him, reading everything he thought. He knew him better than anyone else, even Felix himself.
"Everyone puts on a show for Felix!"
For fucks sake.
He could fall into the river now if he didn't think about how disgusting it must be in there.
His chest hurts. And the heat behind his eyes is starting to annoy him. He should be happy to be rid of him. Oliver tried to kill him.
But he's not.
He stares down into the running water, hand wiping at his face, which is wet with tears.
For fucks sake.
It's Farleigh who finds him, what must have been hours later. The sun has set. He wasted an entire day here.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Farleigh slides up to him, almost sounding worried but not truly. Until he bends to look at Felix's face, still locked onto the water. "Jesus Christ, what happened to you?"
He remembers telling Farleigh this morning that he was going to the library. Not for what, but Farleigh knew. Impossible to not since Felix hadn't shut up about Oliver since they got back.
"Nothing, nothing," Felix would wince at the childish behavior if he had the energy to do so.
"Well, obviously, something happened," Farleigh hops up next to him, facing the other way. He leans back, nearly dangling off the side of the bridge, holding himself up by his long legs. "Was it that little creep again?"
"He's not a-." Felix stops himself from getting angry. Why is he defending him? He tried to murder him. God he's so messed up.
"Ah, still protective after he's thrown you away," Farleigh teases. He laughs a little. "What happened?"
It's not a real question; he's not expecting an honest answer. Or at least not one of the severity he's going to get.
"He almost killed me."
"Oh, did he now?" Farleigh thinks it's a joke. Felix wishes it was.
"He poisoned me, Farleigh." Felix finally looks up at his cousin. "At the party."
His eyebrows raise, brown eyes going wide. "No fucking way."
He sounds a little too excited about the prospect.
Felix starts detailing exactly how Oliver had weaseled his way into their lives. All of his lies. Then, finally, the party. The maze.
If he thinks about it hard enough, he can almost feel the heat of Oliver's body against his. How he had wanted that for so long subconsciously. But everything was all wrong.
"Holy shit," Farleigh slides off the stone. "He actually tried to kill you. That little freak! I'm almost impressed."
"Good to know he's finally earned your respect." Felix bites out. And remembers all that Farleigh told him about Oliver and Venetia. Him and Oliver. Squeezes his nails into his palms just a bit.
Oliver, crying in his arms while he pours his heart out just to have it stomped on. He looks so pretty when he cries.
"I thought he had no backbone after leaving without saying anything. Like a little slug." Farleigh says, now hanging onto Felix's shoulders.
"What are you going to do about it?" Farleigh asks, placing his chin on his hands. Felix frowns, looking at him.
Farleigh has always been a little shit-stirrer since they were kids. Always playing games just to see what other people would do. "What do you mean?"
"You may be stupid, but you're not dumb, Felix. You know what I mean." Farleigh rolls his eyes.
Felix pauses. "What's the difference?"
"Exactly," Farleigh says as he pushes off Felix's back. He has to steady himself to not get pushed into the lazily running water below.
"I just…" Felix pauses. "I need some time. To think. Bloody Hell."
He rubs his fingers into his eyes before holding his forehead. He needs to think.
Apparently, that's all he is going to do. He hasn't seen Oliver since that morning. No one he asked has either. Not that he was looking for him. No more than usual, anyway. Which just so happened to be an awful lot.
The man who cared about him and listened to him, confided in him, tutored him. Tried to kill him. Gone in the blink of an eye.
There's something worse about this time. There is no longer a trace of Oliver, something to cling onto and chase after. As if he had left entirely. But he wouldn't do that. Would he?
Oxford was all he had, right? He wouldn't leave it all to get away from Felix. Right?
Maybe.
He sees Michael but never Oliver. Trying to talk to him is a bust. He just stares at him with that creepy smile that he doesn't know how Oliver managed to stand for so long.
"There's something wrong with me," Felix pushes a hand through his hair. It's nearing break, and he feels like he's going crazy. He's pacing back and forth in his dorm room, stepping over the mess and trying to not let it remind him of Oliver. Of his eerie, knowing looks and neatness.
"I know," Farleigh says dismissingly from his perch by the window where he lounges, lazily reading. He doesn't spare Felix a second glance. He sighs, turning the page. "I'm not even surprised."
Felix stops, thumb worrying at his chin and lower lip. "What are you on about?"
"Anyone with half a brain can see it," Farleigh continues, disinterested. Maybe a little mean. He never liked Oliver. Something Felix decided to pointedly ignore. "You're fucked."
"Hey, mate," Felix barks a warning. But Farleigh doesn't back down. Never has.
"That little freak tried to kill you, and all you've been talking about for the past few weeks has been Oliver this, Oliver that. I wonder if Oliver would like this, I wonder what he really does in his spare time. What color are his boxers? It's kinda pathetic, Felix. You're even worse than before, which, for the record, I didn't think was possible!"
"I don't know where he is!" Felix says exasperated, "He's in love with me. He can't just disappear on me like this. I-… I need to talk to him again. I need to see him. I…”
He doesn't say the last part. He can't. At least not to Farleigh. He already looks whipped enough. "Have you ever thought," Farleigh starts, looking up from the book he lets dangle in his grip. "That maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want to see you ?"
"You don't have to be a dick, Farleigh," Felix snaps. Farleigh shrugs and goes back to half reading, half not paying attention. "Seriously I don't know why I talk to you."
"Because we're family, and you love me?" Farleigh supplies as he turns the page.
Felix keeps talking without acknowledging his statement, "Where could he have gone? There's only so many places to go."
"He seems to be pretty good at hiding when he wants to." Farleigh is right. And it pisses Felix off.
Felix sits down in a huff on his bed, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling.
Where did you go? You said you wanted to always be by my side. I want… I need you by my side.