what are we? — felix catton - part two.
a/n: before all of the au’s that need a part two, I’ve been owing you guys this one <3
Felix has been doing a good job at forgetting you.
At least that’s what he thinks, that’s what he tells himself.
But he can’t help but think of your argument. It’s been days, weeks even, and the only reason you’re not laying next to him right now with those sweet smiles of yours is because he’s been too much of a damn coward to acknowledge you two, to acknowledge you really were something.
Because he was too scared, he was used to having a new girl every week, you were just his favourite — right?
That’s what he told himself, but he was wrong.
He can’t live without your laugh, your kisses, the way you roll your eyes when he says something stupid, the way you correct him.
It’s more than ‘just pussy’, he actually likes you — loves you even. But he only realised it now, that you were gone.
Your birthday’s coming up now, he needs to make it right, it’s the least he can do. So he buys you and expensive bracelet, some earrings and some expensive flowers, sends it all over to your parent’s house, and he knows it’s a good move because your parents already love him.
They ask if you invited him to the small party you’re throwing with just your friends and family, he bluntly says you didn’t and that he can’t understand why because “i dunno, guess she’s a bit distant.”, so your parents pity him and invite him.
When you see him there, a smile thrown on his face that quickly makes yours vanish, but you keep it together for the sake of your family, and when it’s done and he chooses, no, insists on staying, you quickly pull him into your bedroom.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You exclaim, closing the door behind him and crossing your arms over your chest.
“What? Y’re parents invited me.” He throws his hands up in defence, raising his pierced brow up.
“What did you tell ‘em?!” You keep your voice down even with everything that’s going on, you don’t want your parents to hear this, much less intervene.
“That I missed you!” You tilt your head towards him, showing clearly that you don’t believe him. “And that…. you’re a bit distant lately.” He mutters.
“Distant?” You scoff. “Oh I wonder why exactly I’ve been distant.”
“Don’t mention that, it was just a little argument.” He steps forward.
“Little?” You say in indignation. “Just say it Felix, you give no shits ‘bout me.”
“Oohhh I give a lot of shits about you, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t show up in ya’fucking house.”
There’s silence between you two, he’s worried about you not answering him, so he sighs, bites down on his lip, ponders if he really should apologise for long, long seconds before finally saying:
“Look, ‘m sorry, yeah?” You don’t answer again, he steps forward, taking both of your hands.
“I was scared.”
You end up deciding — maybe it’s not that bad to forgive him, he came all this way anyways.
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