Fake It - OP

Chapter 36

Oscar didn't race yesterday, although it almost took Zak threatening to put him in handcuffs, and actually pulling out the handcuffs to stop him from going to the garage. According to Oscar bedrest meant still being able to be at the track, even if he couldn't race, Zak, Oscar's trainer and Lando saw things differently. So after dealing with a mopey Oscar all day yesterday, watching the race from our shared hotel room, we were headed to the airport to fly back to Monaco. Since the accident, there has been an uneasy peace between us, like a truce that we would try and be friends. For the most part, Oscar hasn't been as cold, and I've been trying to not act like a worried girlfriend, which is hard since Oscar's fractured ribs don't let him do much without wincing. But for the most part, things seem okay.

"Give me your bag Os," I say, holding my hand out. It was painful for me to watch him lift the bags out of the back of the car. I don't intend on letting him make things more painful for himself.

"I'm fine B, it's just my hand that's annoying." He motions to the orange cast. I still think it's funny he defaulted to Orange when picking out a colour.

"You're forgetting your side looks like the purple Teletubbie."

"Tinky Winky?" He says without hesitation.

I pause, turning to look at him, I couldn't help the smile stretching across my lips. "You actually know a Teletubbies name?"

"I have sisters." He said quickly the picture of nonchalance. I gave him a challenging look as if to say I didn't believe him. "Oh drop it B, it's not like I'm a diehard Tellatubies watcher."

I laughed. Genuinely, for the first time in a while. "Come on, we're going to miss our flight, Give me your suitcase."

"It has wheels!" Oscar protested and I leveled him with a glare. He let out a deep sigh and released the suitcase handle. I smiled, "Thank you."

As we made our way through the airport, Oscar and I were swarmed with people wanting pictures. I could tell Oscar was tired, and with the faint bruise on his right cheek from his helmet he looked even more so. But, if there was one thing Oscar didn't want to do, was ditch his fans so I neglected to interfere. Most people wanted pictures with Oscar and I somehow became a photographer a few times. Other times I was handing him pens, and items to sign. I was surprised when a few people wanted a picture with me and I was thankful for my decision to put on some light makeup this morning. Oscar was trained for this, and despite the swarm of people we kept moving, and when we reached the security line it was like home free. When we got through security, I saw the deep exhale he took, and the slight wince he tried to hide on his brow while doing so. Getting back to Monaco would be good for him. He had almost a month to heal and relax before the next race.

"Which gate again?" I asked Oscar, interrupting his reach for his suitcase. I grabbed the handle and began walking. He shot me a glare but followed in tow.

"Fifty-three and boarding doesn't start for another thirty minutes. So, coffee?" he asked.

I nodded and we started in the direction of a Starbucks. It felt wonderfully domestic, the fragile peace between us. I had no idea if it was going to last, but I was going to take advantage of every moment. We both paid for our own coffees and then found our gate. There was a big window looking over where the planes docked so I sat facing outside, our plane was already docked and ready so I watched as they began to load up all the luggage. I was thankful for Oscar and I's choice to just pack a carry-on bag this weekend, the guy loading the luggage must not know we all can see him chucking around the bags.

My phone dinged in my pocket and I pulled it out to a notification from Oscar on Instagram. Since April, I've learnt how to limit notifications on my social media, I no longer get spammed, but I can still be notified when the people I follow message me or tag me in things. I opened the app of the notification screen and it jumped to the chat between Oscar and I.