THE END | Oscar Piastri

23. obsessed

Oscar's pov

Baby?
Where are you?

It was the text I sent Elaine right after I was finished with my media. I wasn't able to take my phone out before then, and I still hadn't located her on my own. I was starting to get a little worried, she hadn't texted me at all.

The read receipt comes through, but it's another two minutes before she responds.

Hospitality.

It doesn't take me long to get there. It had been just ahead when I received the text.

I found her sitting on one of the comfy low-sitting chairs on the second floor. She was entirely alone, scrolling through her phone with the slightest hint of anger on her expression.

I pull the nearest seat to be closer next to her, placing my hand on her knee once I sit down. She doesn't look up from her scrolling. "What are you doing up here? I was starting to get a little worried." I laugh, trying to break the tension but it comes out awkward.

"Were you? Cause you seemed a little preoccupied to me." She finally puts her phone down, death glaring me. If looks could kill, boy I'd be long gone.

I'm confused now, I can feel my face contort to reflect the emotion. "With my media? Lainie you know I can't have my phone out." I shake my head, still not understanding what's got her all upset.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you damn well know it." Her French accent comes out heavier when she's angry. Most of the time I don't even realize the accent is there, it's usually very faint.

What else would I be talking about? I didn't recall anything else I've done between my dnf and now other than media.

I shake my head. "I don't-" I try to speak, but she cuts me off before I can get a full sentence out. "Think a little harder, Oscar." It's not a nice tone in the slightest. She spits the words out, loud and irritated.

Eyebrows furrowed, I almost ask her what she means. It hits me before I ask though. My eyebrows undo themselves in the realization, a subconscious roll of my eyes follows soon after.

I run a hand over my face. I can't believe we have to have this conversation again, for the fourth time since silverstone. "Can we go to my driver's room to talk about this?" I ask her, trying to gain some privacy. More people have filed in since I've got here. Not many, only about five people, but still. Things spread fast.

She scoffs at my question. "What? You don't want everyone to know how much of an asshole you are?" She yells again. I can't risk a scene, it'll look terrible and McLaren would definitely be upset with me.

I keep my voice quiet and level, leaving my expression emotionless. "No. I just-" She was never going to agree. I cut my own sentence off and pick her up by the arm. It's a loose enough grip that she could get away if she wanted, but she doesn't, allowing me to lead her to the privacy of the room.

"I didn't want to risk causing a scene." I finish my earlier statement. She rolls her eyes, throwing herself down onto the small couch in the room, crossing her arms across her chest. I take a long sigh. "You've got your privacy. Are you going to make up your excuses now?" She's not yelling anymore, but her tone is still aggressive.

"I don't have any excuses. I've told you every time we have this conversation that Savannah and I are only friends, if that even. She's with Lando. I'm with you. I was on my way to you when she caught up to me in the pit lane. I was trying to be nice and not ignore her. I've avoided her the entire weekend for you." I explain calmly, but I can tell by her expression that she doesn't think my explanation is real.

"So now you're making me out to be the crazy controlling girlfriend." She retorts, twisting my words beyond belief. "No, why- how- when did I even say that?" My voice raises, caused by her accusations.

She rolls her eyes and stands up, stepping closer to me. "I've avoided her the entire weekend for you." She mocks my earlier words, putting them into air quotes.

I don't get it. If I stay away from Savannah, I'm a bad person. If I talk to Savannah, I'm a bad person. I can't win.

"Whatever. I'm finding my own ride back." Before I can register her movements, she's already at the door, hand on the doorknob.

I grab her by the waist and pull her back to me. "Tell me how I can make this better." I practically beg her, looking down into her brown eyes. The anger in them noticeably dilutes, her expression falls into something that almost resembles pity. Pity for me or for herself, I don't know.

"Cut her off." In an instant, the diluted flame ignites to its entirety. Despite the burning flame, her eyes are deathly cold. Just looking at them sends goosebumps across my skin.

Hadn't I been trying to do that already? Cut her off? Wasn't that what she was just mad at me for?

Regardless of her conflicting statements, I agree anyway. "Okay. Consider it done." I nod reassuringly. The flame is gone again. The change is so quick I fear whiplash for a moment.

Lately, it's like I can't find an in between with her. At times, she won't even leave my side. She'll cling onto me with no sign of letting go. But other times it's the complete opposite. Like nothing I do can make her happy. She'll be mad at me without a reasonable explanation, leaving me wondering for hours until she's back to clinging to me.

It's never something I've seen with her, it's only started happening in the last month. Though on holiday, the two of us were fine for the entire four weeks.

"You want to go get ice cream or something? Maybe go to a restaurant?" I ask her, the two of us making our way out of the paddock together. Her hand tightly around my upper arm.

She turns, smiling at me. "Either is fine. They both sound nice." She replies before lying her head on my shoulder. Her hand trails down to intertwine with mine.

"Then we can do both." I share her smile as she glances at me, dark eyes reflecting the warmth of the sun.

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A/N - IM SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX I KNOW SHE'S BEEN ASLEEP ON MY SIDE OF YOUR BED AND I CAN FEEL IT