Cropped out - an Oscar Piastri x OC fic

Chapter 26- Why?

Oscar:
"Are you okay, mate?" Lando asks as I sit down.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You and Eli just seem more distant than usual is all."

God, is it that obvious? Just the mention of her name drags blood down my body, leaving my already fragile brain devoid of oxygen. What is she doing to me? I've been giving her the space she wants, not that she's said anything about needing it, but I need it too because else I might throw her against a wall for making me feel like this. But when I picture that happening, I picture my mouth going to her throat, and my hands travelling down her body, exploring all that I saw at the hotel the other day. Fuck me. I can't even think about her without getting hard.

I cough to clear my fuzzy thoughts, "We're fine. Nothing than the usual."

He scrutinises me with his eyes whilst mine flick over to her, seeing her in deep conversation with Scarlet. I want to go over there. But I can't. Because I'd promised myself I'd give her space to decide what she wants, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

I had watched her for a while at the pool, not in a weird way, but my head had been so full of her that I needed to go for a walk to clear my head. When I saw her stood there, pool lights reflecting on her skin, curves on full show, I couldn't help but stare. The very thing I tried to escape had caught me in her trap. One that now I cease to leave, because I'm quite content with her toying, with my own, I guess.

I don't know what came over me, one minute I was in the shadow, unheard, and the next I was a few feet away from her, opening my mouth to call her beautiful. I hadn't even noticed the lizard that scurried away until she looked at it, clearly thinking I was referring to it, rather than her. When she dropped her hands my heart all but seized up, her body on full display to me, pebbled with goosebumps that I wished to ease away, to cradle her in my arms until she warmed up. Or to spread her on the floor and have her warming up in other ways. I hadn't registered what she had said next, only that she was leaving, and I didn't want that, so I grabbed her waist, spinning her around so that she was in front of the pool, her uneven breaths fanning my face.

I could've so easily released myself of the desire to kiss her again, to just crush my lips onto hers, to rid myself of her torment, but I didn't, because I don't know if she wants this. Me. So I waited, pulling her away from the pool but still latching onto her body, unable to peel myself away from her.

I can still feel her under my hands sometimes, and for those split seconds I'm back staring into her eyes, my hand under her chin, then pushing some hair out of her face as I ask her what she wants. Needing it to be me. This woman is pure lust, melded into a form intent on tormenting my every will. I don't know when it dawned on me that what I see in her isn't just hatred, but something else entirely. It just happened. And yet, as much as I wanted more, I walked away from her. Waiting for her to call me back, to run after me, to make me turn around. But she didn't.

"I'm not buying it." Lando breaks me from my thoughts.

"Good for you." I respond, salty that he's bringing it up, then move the conversation away from it as some members of the team sit down to talk a bit about the car.

—

She's definitely kept her distance, maybe a bit too well, because I haven't seen her pretty much all weekend. Barely saw her at the interview tents after the race, and didn't see her at the garage either.

I, again, declined any and all invitations to post-race parties. Since last time went so well. So I am now sat in my hotel room, towel around my waist from having a shower, reading a book. I don't usually read, but I've been meaning to recently and I thought what's a better time to start than now?