deux.
chapter two.

xxx.

          Later that night, while most were still in the dining hall, chatting incessantly and laughing loudly to the point where the sound was practically echoing off the walls, Oliver retired to his dorm's common room. It was empty, and dark, but that was the sort of thing he was looking for, really. A place to think, to be alone, to digest everything that prospered in a matter of 24 hours.

          Most of that thinking was dedicated to Felix Catton, though. But that wasn't all that strange, he imagined lots of people would sit in their rooms thinking of Felix Catton too, just likely doing more 'thinking' under their sheets.

            One of the doors down the corridor creaked open, though since the footsteps that followed were silent, Oliver didn't pay much attention to the sound. Not until felt a presence near the doorway, making him glance over his shoulder, a visibly startled expression on his face.

            He said nothing, and maybe he should've, but the person standing in the entrance of the common room didn't speak either. He was tall, even with the slight slouch of his shoulder, messy ink-black hair covered his eyes for the most part, and his clothes hung loosely from his frame, hiding most of his build. Nick Kim-Roth, in all his less-than-glory.

Nick clearly hadn't been expecting anyone else to have hung back from the first night's celebrations, his brows shifting in surprise. He didn't dwell on it long though, simply looking around the room for a moment. Oliver watched the other young man as he opened the drawer of a desk, pulling something out of it before concealing it in his hoodie pocket.

He didn't catch a good enough glimpse of whatever it was before Nick turned back around and went the exact way he'd come, not a single peep out of his mouth. As he watched his back fade into the darkness and listened for his creaking door again, Oliver briefly wondered what his voice sounded like. Tired, maybe, the bags under his eyes were visible even in the dimness.

This would be the first time Oliver saw Nick Kim-Roth, and it was the only time they would share a curiosity rather than a deduction of each other.

Back in his dorm, Nick locked the door behind himself. He lingered near it for a moment; he didn't normally do that, but something about the loner in the common room made him feel like he had to. He walked back over to his bed, deciding that Felix could handle using his key to unlock it whenever he got in, regardless of how drunk he was.

              He plopped down on the bed, pulling the envelope out of his pocket. Nick had hid it in the desk earlier, knowing no one else would bother to check around the common room on their first day, and because he knew that if Felix had seen it, he would've been annoyed into letting him open it. Nick himself had no intention of reading it, but he was considering giving it to his sister; it was a letter from home, which was a bit ironic since they had only been dropped off at Oxford that morning. More than likely, it was already written hours before they even began to pack their bags.

              Nick wasn't all that interested in what it said, but he was a bit conflicted on giving it to Nell. Depending on what it was or who wrote it, he could imagine a handful of scenarios happening when she read it, and none that his cynical mind could procure were good. He sighed quietly and sat the letter under his bed frame as his legs hung off the edge and he stared across at his roommate's half of the space. Somehow, it was already messy, clothes strewn over the bed and a pile of books on his nightstand. They'd barely been there twelve hours and Felix was already being Felix.

              Nick rolled his eyes and stood, trudging over to the nightstand. He picked up one of the books, reading through the titles as he tried to guess which classes they were for. He often found himself bored with free time; he had no interest in partying, drinking, or even socializing at its bare minimum, but he also didn't need to study or attempt to become more knowledgeable. He was knowledge, and that wasn't a cocky belief to stroke his ego, it was simply the truth, at least as far as he believed.

            But that made for some pretty boring nights when the only people you actually bothered to talk or listen to were out. And, just as quickly, Nick was bored of snooping through Felix's books. He dropped one on top of the pile with a thud and turned, trying to find something else to hold his attention, even briefly, so he didn't have to go to bed so early.

            He slid his hands into his pockets as he looked down at Felix's bed, glancing over the articles of clothing tossed on it haphazardly. Nick hoped internally that they weren't already all dirty, or else he'd have no choice but to make a remark about that to Felix. He had absolutely no intent or desire to lay a finger on the clothes, but something caught his eye, making him squint and lean forward towards one of the shirts. He swiped it up, holding it so he could see the distorted, crackling graphic of the cheap tee.

            " Thief. " Nick muttered quietly to himself, recognizing the shirt as his own. He tried to recall when he would've lent Felix the shirt, or what sort of emergency would've called for that; Felix and Nick were relatively the same height, but almost all of his clothes were a size too big for him, let alone Felix. He held the shirt for a moment, and his rather unmoved face shifted just slightly. Nick dropped the shirt back onto the bed and walked back over to his own, deciding that he might as well go to sleep. Nothing else to do, after all, except maybe laundry that wasn't his.

xxx.

          The next morning, Farleigh was bothering Nell. Well, not maliciously bothering her, but bothering her like a bored child asking a million questions just to fill a void. She didn't mind, though, she was just wondering why he was doing it to her of all people.

          " I hate to cut this conversation short, " Nell interrupted, making Farleigh stop mid-story. She nearly apologized when she looked up and saw his face, but he simply raised his brows with a peculiar smile before nodding her into continuing, " but I thought you had a tutor session first thing this morning? "

          " I do. " He confirmed, his face remaining the same but he felt like his grin might've twitched at her remembering that.

          " Then..shouldn't you be heading there, Farleigh? " She asked, thin brows knitting together in mild confusion as she glanced over his expression. " If you're worried I'm going to get lost or something, I toured the campus yesterday and made sure to find each classroom ahead of time— "

          " You think I'm worried about you getting lost? "

          Nell pressed her lips together, her eyes suddenly flickering, they widened, a little like a deer in headlights. She anxiously shifted her bag's strap on her shoulder and stammered, " I didn't..didn't mean like, you were worried about me, or anything, "

         " Good, 'cause I'm not. " Farleigh agreed with a short nod. He really shouldn't have, but he couldn't resist playing into her misunderstanding— or maybe his purposeful phrasing — to get a reaction out of her. Nell's usually pale skin slowly reddened as he waited to cheekily add, " I know you can handle yourself, Nell. "

         Her lips parted to respond, but fortunately, Farleigh looked down at his watch at the same time and spared her, " Ah, shit, I guess I actually do need to head that way. " She might've been saved by struggling to figure out what to say, but Nell knew by the stupid grin on his face that her face was red enough that it didn't matter. " I'll catch you later, don't get lost. "

         She watched as Farleigh passed her, bumping her shoulder playfully, long legs making it look easy for him to cover so much distance in mere seconds. Nell fidgeted with her bag strap again, turning forward again and casting her gaze down at her feet. She blew out a puff of air and shook her head in annoyance, though she couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

          " Is he running off already? " A familiar voice called, making her head snap up to see Felix bounding towards her with a wide smile of his own. When he finally reached her, he inched over  as if he needed to make up for the height between them and held the back of his hand to her forehead, " Oy, you might need to see the nurse, Nelly, feels like a fever. First day butterflies? "

          His teasing tone was more than Nell could handle that early, especially after Farleigh. She swatted his hand away but held her own against her warm cheek, insisting, " I'm fine, it's just too warm for a sweater today. No more talking, let's get on with it before we're late for our classes too. "

xxx.

           Farleigh managed to make it to his tutoring session, albeit about twenty minutes late, but it's not like they were going anywhere, and Nell Kim-Roth was worth the extra twenty minutes.

         " I'm so sorry, sorry I'm late, sorry I'm late— " He called as he hurried inside, closing the door gently behind him. Farleigh quickly sat in the empty seat, and looked to the professor apologetically.

       " I'm so sorry, got completely lost. " He offered a chuckle as he relaxed in the chair, crossing one leg over the other; he appeared like the least nervous person in a situation that likely would have most hands clammy and hearts racing with anxiety. Farleigh finally looked over at the other student, patting his leg as he greeted him, " Hi, nice to meet you, I'm sorry, "

       Once more, Farleigh didn't pay Oliver mind for more than a minute before he turned his attention elsewhere, looking to the professor again with a polite smile. The two of them shortly spoke, something about the professor knowing Farleigh's mother, but Oliver tuned the awkward conversation out. He didn't bother to look at Farleigh, he kept his head straight and only allowed the occasional eye roll as he wondered if the other young man even recognized him from yesterday. Probably not. But Oliver recognized him.

        He also smelled something on him. The office itself had smelled of old books and cinnamon, but he'd grown used to the scent after being in there for nearly half an hour, so when Farleigh walked in, it was like being hit in the face. Not to say he smelled bad by any means, he actually smelled clean, like he showered before coming, but the glitter stuck under his eyes proved otherwise. Still, the pleasant smell was just a bit strange to Oliver: like a cologne, something less brutally masculine and a bit softer, but like it was mixed with another.

       Mixed with something flowery. Lavender, rose, peonies.

        Oliver glanced out of the window just then, watching as two of Farleigh's group from the day before passed by. The boy with the eyebrow piercing and the girl with a sleek, black ponytail. They were only in his line of sight for all of thirty seconds, but in those short moments, he was able to see them both laugh, then their backs were to him, then they were gone.

        Orange blossoms. That was the smell.

        " Well then, shall we start? "

xxx.

          " And thus.. " Farleigh said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough to go unheard. His mocking expression was enough to know that he hadn't wanted it to, anyways.

            The tutoring session had went on, though it seemed as though none of the three participants really wanted to be there. They'd taken turns reading aloud their essays over one of the summer readings, and Oliver's had just wrapped up. He felt it was adequate, but given the way the professor looked like he was nearly falling asleep, maybe he thought wrong.

           " Hmm? " Oliver acknowledged Farleigh's comment as he quietly chuckled too, rubbing the corner of his eye as if to show a sense of casualness.

           " Sorry, uh, just 'thus'. It's just a funny word. "

           " Why? " Oliver questioned, clearly annoyed by the remark.

            " I don't know. " He actually looked at Oliver then, and there was a shift in his tone. It was subtle, maybe not enough for the professor to feel, but it was enough between Farleigh and Oliver themselves. " I don't think we really use it in real life, do we? It's just..kind of verbose, don't you think? "

            The question was directed towards the professor, but Oliver answered, " No, not really. "

          " No. " Farleigh confirmed, a slight smile pulling on his lips, " No, you don't. You used it seven times. "

          " No, I didn't. "

          " Yes, you did. " He laughed again, and each time he did it, no matter how small of a sound it was, it carried the same amount of ridicule and it made Oliver more irritated each time. Farleigh tilted his head a little as he added, " I counted. "

          The professor began to laugh as he finally interjected, " He's got you there, I'm afraid, Oliver. "

          " So, you're picking apart the style of my essay instead of the substance? " Oliver rerouted to defend himself, using the same sort of tone as Farleigh, but it didn't read the same. " That's kind of— "

          " Kind of what? " Farleigh asked, already unimpressed with whatever the response was.

          " Lazy? "

          " It's completely valid to debate the rhetoric of an argument. It's not what you argue but how. " Farleigh insisted.

          " Great point. " Another useless interjection from the professor.

          " Yeah, especially if you haven't actually read the poems. " Oliver agreed sarcastically, meeting Farleigh's gaze with a passive expression of his own, " Look forward to hearing your essay. "

        Maybe Oliver could've forgiven the other day, when Farleigh bumped into him and mocked him (Farleigh would never have asked to be forgiven for that, anyways), but it was in that moment, truly, that Oliver Quick decided the sort of piece Farleigh Start was in this course of his. The sort that sticks out of the floor like a nail, waiting for you to step on it.

          Farleigh smiled at him; mocking, taunting, phoney. And Oliver returned it all the same.

xxx.

so I know I mentioned last chapter that I'm not used to writing shorter chapters like this, but for the sake of it being based on a movie (shorter time/amount of scenes) and almost the pacing/style of the story, I feel like it works?

Idk, I'm working with it now and we'll see if I decide to change it back to the longer chapters as we go.

I also don't want to do too many scenes like o usually do, or provide so much detail and thoughts of my characters because I think the style of Saltburn was to be vague for the most part and let you piece things together yourself. Again, definitely not my usual style but I wanted to try something different.

I also also kept that scene in at the end because though I didn't really add anything that the movie didn't already have, I felt like it was important to establish Farleigh/Oliver's dynamic, and give myself some practice in writing their characters lol