THE END | Oscar Piastri

51. he's not a bad guy

Oscar's pov

She told me that waiting outside in the parking lot was okay with her. She didn't even want me picking her up at all.

I waited outside her gate.

Admittedly, I wasn't sure if it was the smartest idea. I didn't want her to be upset with me, but I also didn't want to wait longer than I had to to see her.

Just landed, where are you parked?

Second floor, section 6.

It's not a lie. It's where the car is parked. I'm just not in the car.

She steps off the plane with her face in her phone, and when she looks up, she makes direct eye contact with me.

She looks tired, her eyes are glazed and her hair is a little disheveled, but she somehow still looks perfect.

A lazy smile works its way across her face, and her steps quicken. Not so much a run but not the slow walk it was either.

Her arms close around my middle, her cheek lies against my chest. I hold the back of her head with one hand, my other hand placed on her back.

"I thought I told you to wait in the car." She says, backing out of the hug. I drop a hand down to one of hers, holding onto her fingers loosely. "Did you just wake up?" I change the topic, a smirk tugging on the corner of my mouth. "Yeah, how could you tell?" Her words are sarcastic, and she walks off toward baggage claim. My hand falls from hers. "Because you're absolutely glowing."

She rolls her eyes. "Your sarcasm is very charming." Her response is ironic, given it's also fueled with sarcasm. She reaches for her suitcase, and I grab it before she gets the chance to. "Oscar. I'm not helpless, I can carry my own bags." She tries to reach for the suitcase again, but I pull it out of her reach.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you have to." I shrug, take her hand in mine, and lock each of my fingers between hers. "And I did mean it, you are glowing."

She twists her face into a look of disgust, one I can tell is fake, and she drags the both of us to my car, turning when I tell her to.

I open her door for her, and she gives me a blank expression. "Because you don't have to." I reiterate, breaking a smile onto her face. She ducks into the car with a small shake of her head, and I put her bags in the trunk.

At some point on the drive to the hotel, she'd fallen asleep against the window. She looked so calm, I felt bad waking her, but I know it would've been worse if I didn't.

After a couple shakes, she finally blinks awake. "I was resting my eyes." She mumbles, her voice rough and low from sleep. It's too cute.

"Well you can rest your eyes in a more comfortable bed." I tell her. She nods, eyes half open as she drags herself out of the car. She leans on me for support.

She wastes no time in throwing herself onto the bed once I get the door open, face planting right into the pillows.

I slide into the empty space next to her, and she plants her cheek against my chest, an arm draped across my stomach.

I wrap an arm around her back and run a hand through her hair.

Just as she's drifting off, one of our phones starts vibrating. "Who is it?" She mumbles, eyes still closed. I look over my shoulder at the screen. "Gracie."

Eyes still closed, her eyebrows scrunch together. She holds a hand out, and I hand her the phone. She picks up, but can't get a word in before Gracie is yelling from the other side.

"Savannah Scott what are you doing?!" She pulls the phone away from her ear. I can hear her loud and clear, and she's not even on speaker. "Trying to sleep." She grumbles.

"Yeah, trying to sleep with Oscar maybe! What are you thinking? After everything? Come on Sav, I can't stand to see you like that again." She sits up in bed, suddenly wide awake. "How did you-"

I can only hear faint sounds coming from the other end now, and soon I can't hear anything. Savannah gets up, relocating herself to the bathroom. I hear the lock click.

Sitting up, I throw my legs over the side of the bed, bracing my hands on the edge. 'I can't stand to see you like that again'.

The only indication I have as to how she felt is her music. Those lyrics alone were enough to tell she was upset. To the extent of just how upset, was unknown to me. Judging by Gracie's words, it was worse than I could ever imagine.

My stomach twists, and I fear my dinner may make a reappearance.

I can just barely hear her words, light muffles coming from behind the bathroom door. Is it rude to eavesdrop on a conversation that's about you?

"He's not a bad guy, Gracie."

"I know. But he didn't really have a say in it."

"I've already explained it all to you."

"I'd rather he broke up with me than destroy his career."

"My emotions aren't his responsibility. He did what was best for him and I get it now."

"Do you not remember how it was when we were together?"

"Yeah. So why shouldn't I give him another chance?"

I don't catch the rest of the conversation, her voice has become quieter, and I can only hear the low hum of her words.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling and feeling the guilt start to weigh in heavier and heavier as the silent moments pass.

It feels like an eternity as passed when she finally climbs back into bed, her head on my chest again, arm across my stomach. My hand back in her hair and the other around her back.

And as if she'd read my thoughts, she says, "don't worry about her... she doesn't trust easy."

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A/N  omg this took too long  to get out I sincerely apologize to each and every one of you😓 idk how frequent updates will be now bc I have practice every night but I'll try getting them out as often as I can