you hate felix catton. you hate him and his whole bloodline, all of his friends, anyone that has anything to do with him. he has everything you don’t. money, grades that his daddy probably paid for - just like how he paid for felix to get into Oxford, a loving family, friends. he has a perfect life. you hate him for it.

felix has always found you fascinating. you’ve always avoided him. he’s actually tried talking to you before, you’ve openly ignore him both times. he doesn’t know why you hate him. in fact, in his mind the two of you are perfect for each other. he likes his idea of you. he has a little crush. he thinks you’re beautiful, he also thinks you come from a wealthy family - silly boy thinks most people around him do, he thinks you choose to not have many friends, or maybe you’re mute? he’s not sure, but he wants to get to know you.

felix catton doesn’t do girlfriends. and you don’t do felix catton.

felix has hookups. dirty, slutty, hot one-night stands with girls he doesn’t even get the names of. girls who will let him be in charge, despite his abilities in bed, or lack of. because to felix, it’s his world, everyone else is just living in it. he’s a catton for god sake. he really is a sweet boy, he’s just very spoiled, with much too much of a hero complex.

you’re in a pub, drinking your sorrows away, 90% sure you just failed an exam. felix is with his mates, doing shots. he’s annoying the hell out of you. loud, having no social awareness. god he’s infuriating. the drunk boy spots you and giggles as he waves.