Felix Catton was generally well received by his peers at Oxford. Since his family came from wealth and he was attractive, many people wanted to be associated with him. It was something he had grown used to. After all, people seemed to flock to him, especially the girls on campus.

While Felix was notorious for his flings, you were forced to watch his growing boredom with the people around him from the sidelines.

You were part of Felix's inner circle. Something Felix didn't know was that you were in love with him.

Ever since you had sat down beside him in your literature lecture, where you desperately tried to help explain one of the metaphors in the book the class was covering, you hadn't been able to get him out of your head.

It was a fact that you were keen on taking to your grave. Even the rest of your friends didn't seem to notice the way you'd practically bend over backward for Felix.

Despite your promises to yourself when coming to Oxford that you'd never be interested in some shallow, materialistic member of the upper class, you couldn't seem to resist Felix. Something about him was just different.

Unfortunately for Felix, your love for him had turned into something akin to obsession. Or, rather, you had grown obsessed with all the girls he had been with before.

As time went on, you noticed that Felix had a type, or at least a preference for certain people.

In a desperate attempt to draw his eye and earn his affections, you had started to learn the mannerisms of these girls. You dressed liked them, talked like them, you even started using some of the same makeup products as them.

It seemed to be working because even though you and Felix hadn't become more involved with one another, you two had been spending more time together.

The two of you were alone, leaning against the banister on the walkway. The stars shone overhead as Felix took a drag of his cigarette before offering it to you.