SILAS, saltburn

xi. MORNING ERRANDS

CHAPTER ELEVEN
morning errands

     "FELIX, POOR FELIX, was utterly captivated by Silas.  Silas's influence seemed to radiate from Felix; it was as if he were under a spell that couldn't be broken. The powerful Felix was completely ensnared, his every thought and breath consumed by Silas. I yearned to sever their connection, to splinter their bond into millions of irreparable shards, to instill hatred between them. But when I saw them that night in Felix's bathroom, I knew that the mighty Felix Catton would never despise Silas Montague," Oliver confessed, lost in thought.

     "I couldn't hold it against him. Silas had a way of enthralling people, to the point where they were so captivated they could not escape his hypnotic hold. And I understood it," he continued.

     "I longed for Felix's attention to be solely on me. Silas, a wealthy boy, was not used to being overshadowed; he despised jealousy. Still, I was prepared to provoke that dormant volcano within him."

     "Yet, despite my resentment towards Silas, I found myself unable to look away. Part of me despised him with every fiber of my being, yet another part was inexplicably drawn to him, like a moth to a flame."

     Silas had spent the last two nights in Felix's bedroom, a privilege he seldom extended to his flings. Yet, the allure of Felix's company, his bed, sent a thrill through Silas, lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

     His intoxication with Felix over the past two days —or rather his entire life— had eclipsed his awareness of Oliver Quick. But that didn't mean he didn't have a plan for Oliver's departure from Saltburn.

     Grateful for Felix's deep sleep, Silas carefully got up from the bed. Felix was snoring softly, his brown hair splayed across the fluffy pillows. Silas briefly considered capturing the moment with a photograph but had more pressing matters to attend to.

     He pulled on his jeans and borrowed a sweater from Felix's closet. After a swift stop at the bathroom to brush his teeth, he donned his sneakers. Before exiting the room, he cast a final glance at the sleeping boy on the bed, a small smile playing on his lips. Checking his watch, he noted it was seven in the morning.

     Silas exited the bedroom and navigated the hallways of Saltburn, exchanging smiles with the maids he encountered. He reached the entrance, where footmen opened the grand doors for him.

     The morning was warm. He ran a hand through his blonde locks, in need of a trim, as he approached the estate's perimeter fence. He smiled upon seeing the familiar uniformed figure.

     "Good morning, Thomas," Silas greeted, and the man turned around.

     Coming from the wealthy Montague family had its perks, but also its obligations, one of which was a security detail of at least twenty men. Thomas was the head of the security team that accompanied Silas to Saltburn each summer. He had known Silas since childhood, and their relationship had developed into a familial bond.

     "Good morning, boy," Thomas responded, his usually stern demeanor softening into a warm smile. "What brings you here this early? Don't tell me you left something at Oxford again, like last summer," he joked, and Silas responded with a smile and an eye roll.

     "No, Thomas, not this time. But I do need your help with something," Silas said.

     "Anything you need, boy," Thomas responded. Silas reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

     "I need you to run a background check on this person," he said, producing a neatly written note. "His parents, place of birth, home address, school, everything you can find, Thomas."