- "i might like you less now that
you know me so
well."
or, the one where an up-and-coming actress and a formula 1 driver learn that pre-teen rivalries die hard
[ oscar piastri | social media + irl ]
"All unintentional," Maia finally says as she takes a sip of her hot soup.
"You say unintentional, I say the world is trying to let you both know that it's meant to be," Angela teases, shimmying her shoulders as she speaks. "Picturing it now: some romantic Christmas celebration with your families, under the table hand-holding, some wine you like getting shared between the two of you. Ugh, imagine it—hey!"
Maia tosses a crumbled up paper towel at her roommate's face, making her nose scrunch up on impact.
"You're too imaginative," She scolds, pointing at Angela's barely-touched bowl of canh chua. "Just eat."
Angela rolls her eyes as she complies and gets another spoonful of broth into her spoon, and Maia only smiles as she does the same.
While she blows on the hot soup, she feels her mind slipping to when Oscar had wrapped his hand around hers, helping her find the direction of a fan outside of the FIA ceremony hall.
Warm hands in the cold event hall lobby.
Under the table hand-holding, she shakes her head at the thought. That's a bit much, even for Oscar.
Because it was true. It was a bit much; and she's still not too fond of the idea of being called a 'WAG.'
Not that she wants to be one, anyways.
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HIS room always feels so small whenever he comes home, but Oscar still loves it anyway.
His walls remained filled with posters of drivers he admires; some he's even gotten the privilege to work with now (i.e. Fernando Alonso), and they were still the same shade of blue they had been when he left. His desk, too, was pretty similar to how it had remained throughout his childhood—the same creaky spinning office chair and the same Call of Duty mug holding his pens and pencils sat sit, unmoving as his life went on without them.
His mom was too attached to how it was to change it, saying that while he was in Europe she wanted to leave it the same in case he would come back and need to find something. Even his closet is still filled to the brim with clothes too small for him now, and he's sure that if he ever tried to wear the T-shirts that were stowed away, he'd have more problems than just necklines being way too tight.
It was never too cold in Australia, but Oscar had a habit of wrapping himself in his sheets and getting cozy anyway—which is exactly what he was doing right now. His little piece of heaven, a cozy blanket wrapped around himself as he lay still in his jeans and hoodie that he had travelled in.
