felix was what was considered a god to all the oxford goers in 2006.

he had any woman he wanted.

any grade he wanted.

however much money he wanted.

all with a simple ‘please.’

not even that.

a simple glance at a girl and she was giggling, getting up from her seat to follow felix to wherever he took her to hookup.

but he hated how it made him feel.

in theory, he loved it.

loved the idea of being loved.

but in reality, it felt far from ‘godlike.’

it felt like he wasn’t human.

like all people saw him for was his good looks and his money.

his family’s money.

maybe that’s why he liked you so much.

you made him feel human.

you made him work to get what he wants.

and he loved it. he loved you.

and that came with all your little strings of weird ideas that he never would’ve thought you’d come up with.

he’d heard your ideas hundreds of times, so when you asked if you could put a pink ribbon on his bicep, he was barely even phased.

that was probably the most normal thing you’d asked him in a while.

but still, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“baby, that’ll kill the whole outfit i’ve got going.” he teases, turning and reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear. you’re sitting on his bed while he’s getting dressed for some pub night thing he’d heard about from his cousin farleigh, who also went to oxford with you and felix.