"Come to Saltburn."

The first time you had heard that phrase was five years ago. Fourteen at the time, all too eager to fall for a dimpled smile and a charming accent. Felix had everyone wrapped around his finger from a young age: nursery, primary school, secondary school... It was no surprise that he faced the same treatment at Oxford.

Effortlessly smart, even if his father had made a donation on his behalf just to guarantee his spot there alongside his cousin, Farleigh. Effortlessly handsome, with that messy dark hair and legs for days. Effortlessly charismatic, all lopsided grins and easy remarks. He just made everything look so natural. It would be infuriating, if you weren't so smitten with him.

He's always been the same with you, too. Felix has always had the pick of the litter when it comes to friends, but you're the one he's chosen to stick by for the last few years. Whether it was threatening to deck your first boyfriend for calling you a bad snogger or sitting up with you late into the night to study for your A-levels together, he's just always been present. Which is why Oliver Quick's arrival proved to be quite the nuisance.

You were still invited, of course. He's always asked out of courtesy, even though it was obvious you were a part of their family at this point. You've had the room opposite his for half a decade, for God's sake. But it's always just been the four of you: Felix, Venetia, Farleigh and you. So, admittedly, you're feeling a little miffed about the fact he's thrown this odd boy into the mix.

"I'm just saying... I think he's strange," you tell him one day after lunch. Sprawled out in the grass together, the blades tickling your ears each time the breeze rolls past you both. As always, Felix looks utterly in his element, even doing something as mundane as laying down shirtless after a dip in the pond.

"Oh, come on," he chuckles, sunglasses low on his nose and a knowing glint in his eye as he spares you a glance. "Just give him a chance. He's harmless."