one of your girls: 2
part one
series masterlist
A/N: helloooo :-)))) i can't even tell you guys what the response to the first part means to me! aahhh! and hearing from some of you that you've been in reader's shoes hurts my heart :((( a really unfortunate place to be in. but, of course, this is a semi-realistic fairytale, a fix-it fic if u wish that i hope will heal ur hearts somehow. i've been in a similar situation, and idk, maybe writing this idea is my way of dealing with it, which is good i guess. anyways, i hope u like this part, hope its not a disappointment after the first one sdghsdhgfhg :Dd (im just very anxious). happy reading!
word count: 5.6k (whoopsie)
warnings: mostly angst; insinuations / mentions of sex; not much else i don't think [this might get edited later cos i havent really beta-read ehehehe i just want u guys to read this <33]
music i listened to while writing & recommend: half a heart by one direction; siegfried by frank ocean; plus tot by alexandra strelinski; my felix playlist (thanks so much for saving it and giving it a listen🥹)
for the first time in your life, you can say you're experiencing an emotional hangover instead of an actual hangover. well, a little bit of the real deal, but the emotional one is much worse. tears biting at your groggy eyes as soon as you open them in the morning, the events of last night hitting you hard and fast, playing in your head like fragments from a film.
the dancing, the touching, the crying, the closing of the door. you squeeze your eyes shut again, having a tiny sliver of hope that this action will erase all the events and you'll be just fine.
but that doesn't happen. you push your face into your nearly-destroyed pillow, basically suffocate yourself until you genuinely need air, just so you can forget it all happened. but it doesn't work, no matter how badly you want it to. you want it all to be gone, just gone, so you don't have to deal with it at any point in time.
most of all, you want to just turn back time.
and do what? don't tell felix anything? grow thick skin and an iron heart and not let any of the other girls wrapped around his fingers get to your head? rewind so far that no intimate encounter between you two ever happens?
never become friends with him at all?
no. there's lots of things you wish for in regards to felix and your friendship, but wishing you never met him is never one of them. if you so could, you would make it so that you are friends in every universe.
you sigh deeply and stare up at your ceiling. it must be waking hour, you hear footsteps padding by your dorm room, girls giggling and talking in hushed whispers. you also hear this incessant snoring from the same direction. has someone fallen asleep in the hall ag-?
felix. that's right, before you crashed into your bed, you heard him slide down your door and land heavy on the carpeted floor. your eyes widen and you freeze. my god, he's really still out there. nothing else could have made you get up in your state faster from your bed than him still being out there.
you stumble over to your door fast, almost put your palm around the handle, but you stop mid-way.
you closed the door on him last night, and promised yourself you wouldn't give into his acts of pity ever again. of course, as soon as you will see his puppy eyes, it's surely gonna be over for you and you'll want to forgive him and open that door for him into your life again. but you promised yourself you wouldn't.
that was your last coherent thought before you nodded off completely. no matter what he tries, you're not letting him in again.
but there have to be some other conditions... surely this isn't the end of you two. your back hits against your door, and you can feel the rumbling that his snores resonate through the scottish wood.
but what if this is the end of you two? you've known the risk of saying no to felix all along, seeing how other friendships (though, scarce in number, no more than two) felix has had ended. those people just become ghosts to felix, to his friend group, to almost all of uni campus.
and of course you don't want him completely out of your life. but you just don't know any other solution. it's better for both of you - you don't get hurt and felix doesn't get upset.
of course, the only other solution is either of you changing. you can't both change, and you're certainly not the one who can change. you don't know how to grow thick skin, an iron heart and put up picket fences around you so don't ever get hurt or let anybody past the fences.
but it's too much to ask of him to change, just for you. although, maybe it's not just for you, maybe him changing would be beneficial for everybody involved. because surely you're not the only girl bothered by his don juan lifestyle. you often wonder what those other girls think about felix's... predicament. do they feel hurt, knowing there are others? that they're merely sharing the guy? do they feel let down? do they feel... shame, maybe?
you do sometimes.
you sigh, running your hand through your mess of hair that hasn't been taken care of since before partying last night. your head hits the door softly.
but you can't just ask him to change. that would be outrageous, asking something like that from anyone is more than audacious. but asking that of felix of all people would make you look like you think too much of yourself. and you're not that kind of person. you can't ask that of him.
unless...
a sad smile webs across your lips. unless he realises he has to change, by himself, no asking needed. he's a smart guy, felix, catches on quick. but you don't know if that applies to feelings, to girls, to you. you had felt this sadness, hurt and upset with him in your heart long before last night, and he had no idea.
only time he did pick up on it was yesterday when seeing your ruin of a dorm room. but that was something he could see. how would he pick up on feelings, on a favour that he doesn't know you're asking of him?
you shake your head. you doubt something like that will ever happen. boys are just oblivious, and felix is no exception. so you guess... you'll just stay forever like this. carry on with your academic and personal lives, study, take exams and graduate while this door remains between you two. this closed door.
you sigh, shake your head heavy with a dull headache, and get up off the floor. you need to take a shower, so you walk towards your bathroom, and then you need to get ready, grab an energy drink and vitamin water from your fridge (as a student, there is hardly anything in your fridge besides those two beverages and alcohol bottles), and then head out of your dorm to the library for studying. out of your dorm.
that seems impossible to do without passing that guard dog of yours. you turn the light on in the bathroom and are met with your disheveled self in the mirror. well, you look appropriate to how you're feeling, truth be told. nothing more, nothing less. liner and mascara smudged around your eyes, dripped and dried onto your cheeks and temples, eyeshadow and highlighter barely there anymore, glitters from them only mere ghosts on your face, across your hair.
being in the shower, any sounds from the outside world are muted to you. you don't hear the clearing of a throat from your guard dog as he wakes up and sits with his back against the still locked door. his eyes hold remorse, regret, seemingly an endless tiredness, and memories of last night whoosh by in his brain like a fast train. memories of you. crying, confessing, pushing him away. closing the door on him for the first time in your time together.
felix sniffles and wipes his nose, his eyebrows furrow as he draws his knees close to his chest, sitting more comfortably. the carpeted floor of the dorm hallway did nothing to make him comfortable while he slept through the night there, his body sore all over, mostly his back. other oxford students pass and don't miss a chance to look at him. no one dares to even utter a quiet laugh now that he's awake, but felix shoots them a glare anyway. he knows what those students think of him, what they might say to others behind his back.
but he doesn't care. all that matters to him now is meeting you and trying to make it all right again between you two. his heart aches. he doesn't think he'll ever forget the look you had on your face last night. or how hard it was for you to get any words past your lips, he could see your chest lurching with every attempt at speaking, with every sentence you pushed out.
mostly he can't believe that he has hurt you this much. he never thought you were oblivious to him having other girls, growing up with his mother and sister taught him that much - girls talk, they're intuitive and whatever you want to hide from them, they know about it before you even start to contemplate doing it. he also can't say he didn't expect you to be hurt by it. the closest formulation of words he can match to what he thinks about your confession is... he just expected you to have a different reaction or attitude towards it.
stupid of him to expect that, stupid of him to expect anything, from you especially, he knows that. he tries to justify that by thinking, well, we all expect something from other people, don't we? it's essential to any kind of relationship. but whenever he realises he expects something from others, to him it feels like burdening that person, asking something of them that they can't give. because when something like that is asked of them, it feels silly. if they'd just deliver without having to be asked, it'd be a different story. then felix wouldn't feel so bad about having expectations, desires, or wants.
maybe, he contemplates, maybe you were right, and you two are different, simply too different. that freedom of his that you talked about. it's something... unconscious about him, a characteristic that he doesn't and has never had the conscious choice to have. you're right. it's something he can't erase from himself.
but he also doesn't want it to be the reason you stop talking to him. you are felix's closest friend. though in your context it seems absurd that he would treat his closest friend this way - give you almost everything and then give other girls the rest behind your back. and you've never made a pact or deal or any sort of agreement on it, which just furthermore proves the disregard. it's just wrong to treat the person you call your closest, bestest friend with such disrespect and, seemingly, not an ounce of care.
but he does care. he cares about you, he cares about your feelings, he cares about your relationship, your friendship. you matter to him equally as his sister and parents matter to him, if maybe even more, though he would never admit that in their presence.
felix rubs his eyes and checks the time in his wristwatch. eleven twenty. he breathes a sigh and hope you'll be out soon so he can talk to you. well, first of all, he has to think of what are he's going to say to you. improvisation might not work, but with the directness he possesses he might slip through without planning ahead. but what if you've already-
"felix!" farleigh's voice cuts through felix's headache like a spear, and felix squeezes his eyes shut. his cousin pads on the carpet floor towards felix. "i thought i might find you here," farleigh says with that wicked smile of his and stops in front of felix. he looks up at farleigh, whose grin only grows wider at the sight of miserable felix, "rough night, eh?"
"you could say so," felix says and shakes his head. farleigh looks him over.
"wait, don't tell me you slept out here," he voices his assumption, and felix can only nod in response. farleigh laughs, "i can't wait to hear what happened," he says in a jolly tone and felix gives him a look. before he can give him a scolding or just tell him off, you open the door of your dorm and make felix lose balance, making him almost fall to the floor on his back. but knowing it's you, he scatters to his feet and stands tall before you. he doesn't do that in a way to intimidate you, his eyes certainly don't give off that vibe. farleigh eyes you both curiously, puts two and two together in his brain and gasps excitedly, like a child on christmas morning seeing one of the presents he asked so desperately for under the christmas tree, "something happened last night!" he makes short applause with his hands.
"farleigh," you nod at him in slight disdain, and your eyes wander over to felix. you definitely were not prepared to see felix like this. he looks rough, hair messy, clothes the same ones he wore last night, obviously, face fluffy and tired, barely any evidence of good sleep visible, and you naturally feel sorry for him.
farleigh is definitely too much this morning, in this context, the mere presence of him gets on your nerves. he always talks too much, of course, to that you have sort of grown accustomed to, but right now he's not only annoying, he's unnecessary. you just can't wait for the rumors you're gonna hear about you and felix on monday that will come entirely from farleigh's twisted imagination.
you grip the strap of your shoulder bag tighter in your hand and quickly lock your door, then give both boys another look. a look of avoidance, one you hope they'll understand enough not to make any further conversation. you can't not look into felix's eyes again, those sad, pleading doe eyes, and that's when you make for your escape.
"i have studying to do," you quickly blurt out and shoot in the direction of the exit, walking as fast as you can away from them both. you know farleigh's snicker and laughter are coming seconds before you hear them, and you simply roll your eyes. you hear a pair of heavy footsteps after you, and you quicken your pace.
"hey, please, wait up!" it's felix, of course it's felix, and you can hear him being genuine in his voice, in the tone of his voice, "please," he pleads as you keep walking with the same fast pace, "please, we have got to talk about this." felix grows desperate, pretty evident in his tone and words now, and it makes you come to a stop and whip around to face him, something you're terribly dreading.
it is hard to look at him and deny him anything he'd ask for. a few hours of sleep and two decisions don't rid you of that complication. "felix--"
"let me come with you, please," he begs. you lean against the closest stone pillar in the building's outer wall and let out a sigh. felix searches your eyes, "please, i'll sit in silence, i'll help you study, and then we have to talk about everything."
you shake your head. you feel at fault again, even though you know you're not. you voiced your pain and upset. but your natural instinct, sadly, is to blame yourself. "i shouldn't have said anything in the first place," you simply state, your eyes darting all around you, "i was a fool to bring it up, i shouldn't have, but i did, and now everything is complicated and... weird." you sigh again, avert your eyes and then look up at felix again. "i didn't want to make everything weird."
felix can taste the apology you want to make to him before it crosses your lips, and he shakes his head, steps closer to you, leans down a little to your level. oh, how you adore when he does that. "i appreciate everything that you said, i hope you know that," felix says as the first point, "and i'm sorry that i didn't know what to really say, and now... it's only weird because you're shutting me out," he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
you scoff, "yeah, might be the first time i've ever done that," you say, "might be the first time someone's told you no." you bore straight into his puppy dog eyes.
felix takes a step back, "wh-what do you mean?" he asks, and you can see that he genuinely does not understand. you scoff again, lighter this time.
"i-i mean no one's entitled to have boundaries around you," you say without a care if you sound harsh, "i'm always supposed to be available for whatever you might want to do, and be in the same mood as you are, and just always be open, be there, otherwise...." you shake your head, "and yes, you're great company, felix, and you're my...." words fail you, "but--"
"but what? you're saying i'm forcing you to do stuff? forcing you to be friends with me? we can always talk about that, why don't we?" felix replies, and you groan out of frustration. friends with him. whatever you might be, it definitely does not count as friends, or friends in the very least.
you take a few steps closer to felix, now looking up at him from a few inches away. "is that what you think will fix things? talking about them?" your words feel like venom, and you don't necessarily mean to say them that way, it's just how you feel - annoyed and frustrated - coming out of you through your speech.
"h-how else then?" felix gestures with his hands. you shake your head, tears biting the back of your eyes again. felix notices your eyes growing glassy, and he drops to his knees in front of you, again. how many times will he do this? "please, just tell me what else i have to do, what else can i say to fix all this?"
you shake your head and look away from him. then you see other students coming your way from the inner yard, and you try to push felix upwards by his shoulders. "get up, felix," you plead through gritted teeth, his flesh warm beneath your touch, "get up before you make fools of both of us."
felix complies, standing up, and you both wait quietly for the students to pass as to not make a scene in front of them to fuel whatever rumour farleigh's already making up in his head. the split-second that they're out of ear shot, felix moves close to you again. "just tell me what it is i have to do," he asks, "anything, i'll do anything, just tell me."
anything. a boy at your feet, willing to do anything to make it right - what else are dreams made of?
if only he wasn't so bloody clueless.
"you have to figure it out on your own," you simply tell him, and watch felix's eyes as they're searching yours for any further direction or answer, "good-bye, felix." you say shortly before whipping around on your heel and walking away from him.
"no, i--" felix starts to say, but sees your pace walking away from him and that you're not turning back around this time, and he sighs, stopping in his tracks. maybe he should give you a break. well, he already did, you slept for like eight hours, that's enough for a break. he sighs, "i'll text you!" he calls to you across the inner yard, but is met with no response. you don't stop, you don't turn your head, you don't even give him a rude gesture, which would have been appropriate.
felix sighs and leans against the pillar you were leaning on just seconds ago. he looks down. he feels disappointed in himself. he's given just a few seconds of solitude before he hears footsteps and feels a hand on his shoulder. "hard times at the love parade?" farleigh asks and when felix looks at him, he has that usual shit-eating grin on his face. felix turns around, farleigh's hand falling by his side.
"you don't know the half of it," felix tells him and begins walking in the direction of the boys' dorms, farleigh follows behind like a puppy.
"cousin, dear, you can tell me anything," he assures felix, but he shrugs the boy off.
"like you'd care," felix retorts and begins walking up the wooden steps, farleigh staying at the bottom of them, watching his cousin, "why would i tell you anyway? just so you can cook up some saucy rumour to spread around campus for a little bit of fame and attention? i won't allow it."
farleigh smiles again and begins climbing the stairs to catch up with felix. "so something really did happen," he tries again, and felix whips around to face farleigh, his cheeks hot and pink.
"would you just fuck off for once, cousin dear?" felix spits at farleigh, who just stares back at him, astounded at felix's choice of words. "just leave me alone for one bloody day." felix asks and huffs deeply before leaving farleigh alone on the stairs, letting him wonder what could have felix so upset.
"something has got your knickers in a twist," farleigh mumbles to himself with wide eyes, "well, we're all going to the pub later!" farleigh calls after felix who is half down the hallway to his room already, and he doesn't respond with a gesture or even a move of his head, "if you... want to join." farleigh's voice dies down in volume as he finishes the sentence, and then just rolls his eyes and trots down the stairs with his usual attitude, figuring felix just has one of those moods hanging over him. it will pass soon.
as farleigh descends the stairs and walks out into the yard, he can't help but think about how different this is from felix's scarce bad moods. even when he's upset, felix says what's on his mind, he addresses people's behavior--well, he did address farleigh's incessant questioning--he always addresses or at least voices what's bothering him, but he hasn't yet. so something is definitely different this time.
farleigh's skin itches to find out what exactly makes felix behave differently now, it's like a disease, this curiosity, this yearning to find out. he knows you won't answer any question he has, you've always been careful around farleigh, spotting the kind of person he is almost immediately after meeting him. sure, you have your fun with farleigh, but he's the kind of person you naturally have your guard on around.
he hasn't gotten close to you yet, and there's absolutely no chance he would get close now, you wouldn't allow him to. so there needs to be a situation which would agitate your vow of silence and provoke you to tell him what has happened. not exactly in words - all farleigh should need is a reaction, an expression, a look. that would tell him everything.
felix can't recall the last time he felt such frustration. it shakes his hands, makes his head dizzy, vision blurry, his lips tremble. he slams the dorm room door shut behind him and can barely stand from all these sensations, wanting to sit down, wanting to punch someone, something, anything just to release this frustration and tension in his body. it's materialising in his hands that remain shaking, turning red, in terrible need of a release.
felix pulls his hand into a fist. you're right, he's not used to receiving no as an answer. he's not used to being denied something, especially from a person as close to him as you are. his teeth sink into the skin around his knuckles. god, you're just a spoiled rich boy, aren't you, felix? high up in your tower of freedom and entitlement, too high to share anyone else's perspective, not even bothering to be interested in it. in her feelings towards you, towards your way with girls, with her. felix's skin is starting to bruise. you can't even find the right way to fix this, you can't break out of your vale of obliviousness that doesn't let you see the right answer. she has to tell you to figure it out yourself while you're begging on your knees.
felix screams into his fist and slams it into his dresser. the wood gives under his harsh blast, breaking into a dent, nearly adding splinters to his already bruised hand. felix gasps after the hit, examines his hand slowly. he cries out, not really because of the pain, but purely out of frustration and how desperate and alone he feels. he didn't feel alone before today, before you started shutting him out.
he sits down at the end of his bed and pulls his phone. there's no need to search for your contact as it is the top one in messaging and calls, and felix presses the keys corresponding to the letters he wants to type and shoots you a text before he can stop himself. he's not usually like this - impulsive, angry, explosive. that's what not having you does to him.
'up for a coffee tomorrow? xx'
he huffs through his nose and presses the phone to his face, praying it will swallow up his shame and anger, and that the text will fix everything. but it's just a text. that's not what you have to figure out. a text is nothing.
j ah, he shouldn't have sent it. you're probably just going to ignore it. but maybe you won't. maybe you'll feel different about all of this tomorrow. or maybe he has to offer a better plan. what is getting coffee? he has to do offer something you really like. going to the cinema, or go to a book store, a vinyl store and just browse for hours. do crossword puzzles or sudoku. all those things felix knows you enjoy doing. well, except for partying of course, but tomorrow is a sunday after all, and you're a responsible person and student. felix's head hangs low and he digs his fingers deep into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.
your phone vibrates with a notification just as you're reading the first chapter of the descartes meditations that you have to hand in a paper on in a week's time. seeing felix's name pop up in your screen makes you sigh, and you stuff your phone back into your bag, into its depths, hoping that will make the thought of it less distracting. but it doesn't.
coffee tomorrow? is he taking the piss? you shake your head and lean over your book on the desk in front of you. you mute the part of yourself that wants to pull the phone back out and type an angry reply to felix's text, full of emotion and impulse. the other part of you is stronger, knowing you'll likely not get this text out of your head, and will feel anger over it for a few hours at least. but you also know your academic deadlines, and that you should redirect that anger into productive energy.
that might be the only thing keeping you sane while trying to live without felix - putting all your feelings into your academic work. your girlfriends help you avoid him in lectures and in between them, studying his and yours timetables to ensure you won't accidentally stumble into each other in the hallways on the way to and from lectures. felix, unfortunately, uncovered their plans pretty quickly and kept finding you and trying to talk to you anyway.
he didn't stop at that one text either. he's now sent a total of 86 texts over the course of three weeks. and he's gotten better at his proposals, too - offering you plans consisting of only your favourite activities. all favourites except partying, and you couldn't help but mentally congratulate him for that. you don't like it, but he's on the right track.
you can't say you entirely hate the predicament - felix making all his efforts to meet you and run after you all while knowing he's in the wrong. it feels like felix is finally in a fitting place. and god, it feels euphoric to ignore all his efforts. it just feels right. sometimes it hurts your heart to see his sad puppy eyes, but that's what he deserves. your girlfriends don't let you wallow in guilt much, anyway, and you appreciate them for that. he should feel bad, he should feel responsible for what he's done, he should have some self-reflection.
in the fourth week of you avoiding him, though, the texts have noticeably lessened in quantity. you wonder if it's because he's given up on his cause, or if it's because he's found something more compelling to devote his time to. anxiety eats away at you, saying he's found another girl again, and he doesn't care about you anymore, he doesn't care about making up and being at least friends again.
this anxiety turns into paranoia and starts eating away at you on the friday night of the fourth week alone. you're alone in your dorm, studying, enjoying most of the dorms being empty and quiet since almost all students are out partying. but now that you've given into that paranoia, you can't really focus on any of the text your eyes are reading. you have to go for a walk.
you nudge your feet into your pink rubber slippers, grab your keys and wallet and head out of your dorm. if you're going for a walk, you might as well take the big lap and get something from the convenience store. some candy or snack or maybe tea that will calm your racing mind.
fuck, you should have brought your headphones and walkman, those two would help with silencing your thoughts on the walk. but alright, you digress. this is a walk to clear your head, and headphones with music wouldn't exactly help. so you just sigh and breathe in the warm air of late spring night, it promises you the summer just around the corner. no more lectures, no more running from felix, no more exams or grades. just for a few months, at least.
the convenience store satiated your anxious mind by offering caffeine-free cherry coca-cola and your favourite pop tarts. for a while you thought pop tarts were never coming to the uk, that they are just part of that american dream, but thank god they started to sell them here, too. one of your guilty pleasures, pop tarts, if you're being honest.
as you're walking back to campus, a half-eaten pop tart in your hand, you feel somewhat relieved. not once did the worrisome topic come to mind during your walk, and now you've got snacks too - quite productive. you walk through the inner yard, close to your dormitory now, and see a girl walking somewhat chaotically, as you can best describe it, in the opposite direction.
it's the way she's walking and the fact that she's breathing out of rhythm, more like panting, that makes you pay attention to her. her clothes, also, look like they've been just thrown on in a second's time. as you get closer to each other, you start to recognise her. it's sophie, who you share a few classes with. you know her as a lovely girl.
maybe she's in a dire situation? "sophie," you softly say to her before you can stop yourself, and it makes her stop in her tracks just a foot or two away from you. her disoriented eyes land on you, and you notice that they're not only unfocused, but also glassy with brewing tears, "what's happened? is everything alright?" you ask her, taking a step closer.
but the look in her eyes changes once she recognises you too. changes to a look that kind of mortifies you. there's anger, even disgust, and so much hurt in them. anyone could tell that the cause of those feelings is you, and you're no exception, but you don't know what for.
"no," she says with what is meant to be anger, but just comes off vulnerable and sad, "maybe go fix your boy toy before anyone else gets hurt." sophie says and pushes past you, but not without bumping your shoulder with hers, purposefully hurtful. you make a grimace and look on after her.
"wh-what?" you can only ask, and sophie shoots you a look in response, and continues walking away. you pet your slightly hurt shoulder and continue your walk back to the dormitories. walking inside the building, you see farleigh start standing on the stairs leading up to the second floor of dorms. he has that signature shit-eating grin on his face that keeps getting wider as he takes in your confused expression. you sigh, "i know i will cause such dissatisfaction to you by not asking, but i have to ask," you gesture defeat with your hands, "do you know what the fuck that was about?"
"oh, i know," farleigh answers and descends the stairs to stand closer to you. you gulp and just wait for an elaborated answer, "i'm not saying you're gonna like what you hear, but..." farleigh shakes his head, and laughter erupts from him. you give him a puzzled look. but should you be surprised? farleigh always finds amuse in other people's peril, "ah, it's felix."
you raise your eyebrows. "felix?" you echo and almost look over your shoulder at the girl who just passed you, your movements abrupt and hurried, "felix--she was with felix?" you ask, and sadly, but much to farleigh's delight, you can't hide your surprise and slight pain at putting two and two together.
"oh, yes, she was," he confirms, takes a deep breath, "she was with him until he... he, uh--"
you grow impatient. "farleigh, just say it!"
"until he said your name," farleigh says, "while she was..." he lolls his head around, "...down there."
A/N: CLIFFFHANGERRR!!! eehheheheh
read part three !
felix tag-list: @itgirlsthetic @thegirlinredsspumm @darklyshinyknowledge @kris-bliss @johnstacoshield @deathmybride @profoundpizzasong @druidessgeek @mentality-project @kryptobiite