Sparkle | Saltburn

05

Phoebe woke up the next morning feeling disoriented, the events of the previous night swirling in her mind. She blinked against the morning light streaming in through the window and sat up, rubbing her eyes. The room was quiet, and she realized Felix wasn't there. Confusion crept in as she looked around the dorm, her eyes landing on Oliver, who was sitting at the desk, typing on his laptop.

"Oliver?" She called out softly, her voice still thick with sleep.

Oliver turned, a warm smile spreading across his face as he saw her, "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

Phoebe furrowed her brow, still trying to piece everything together, "Where's Felix? Why isn't he here?"

Oliver stood up and walked over to the bed, his demeanor calm and reassuring, "Felix had an early class this morning. He didn't want to wake you, so he asked me to look after you."

Phoebe nodded slowly, accepting his explanation without question. She trusted Oliver implicitly, never suspecting that he might have ulterior motives, "Oh, okay. Thanks, Oliver. That's really sweet of you."

Oliver's smile widened, pleased with how easily she accepted his words. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, "Of course. How are you feeling after last night?"

Phoebe sighed, her shoulders slumping, "I still can't believe Michael said those things."

Oliver's expression turned sympathetic, his hand moving to gently stroke her arm, " Michael's an idiot. He doesn't know what he's lost."

Phoebe looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude.

Oliver's heart raced with a twisted sense of triumph. He knew that Phoebe's trust in him made her vulnerable, and he intended to exploit that fully. He kept his expression soft and caring, hiding the predatory thoughts that lurked beneath.

"You're an amazing person," Oliver continued, his voice low and soothing, "Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Michael didn't deserve you."

Phoebe blushed slightly, feeling a warmth spread through her at his words, "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," Oliver replied, his hand sliding down to her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "You're kind, beautiful, and so much more than Michael could ever appreciate."

Phoebe smiled, her guard lowering even further. Oliver's touch was comforting, and she found herself leaning into it, seeking the reassurance he offered.

Oliver's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he realized how easy it was to manipulate her. He leaned in slightly, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from her face. Phoebe's breath hitched slightly at the closeness, but she didn't pull away. Oliver's touch was different from Michael's desperate neediness; it was calculated and smooth, designed to make her feel safe and cherished.

"You know, if you ever need anything," Oliver said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm always here for you."

Phoebe nodded, her trust in him solidifying. Oliver's smile widened, and he gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

Phoebe leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the feeling of being cared for. She didn't see the dangerous glint in Oliver's eyes or the way his fingers lingered just a bit too long on her skin.

"How about we get some breakfast?" Oliver suggested, his hand moving to her shoulder again, "It'll help take your mind off things."

Phoebe nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of normalcy.

Oliver stood up, offering her his hand to help her out of bed. Phoebe took it, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

As they sat down to eat, Oliver reached across the table, taking her hand in his. Phoebe looked down at their joined hands, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth. Oliver's smile was genuine, but his thoughts were far from pure. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her skin.