Cropped out - an Oscar Piastri x OC fic

Chapter 29- Cyprus

Eliana:
I'm going to Cyprus with Oscar. Tomorrow. I can't believe those words are real. If you told me 6 months ago that the guy who ruined my shoes would be inviting me for 4 days to cyprus, I would've (probably called you a cunt) then laughed.

We spent a few hours over the phone the other day deciding what to do, and we couldn't think of anything, so I jokingly suggested cyprus. I didn't think he was actually going to consider it, but he said that he's always wanted to go, and then he booked it. It happened so fast I was still in shock that we were actually going to cyprus. Together. Alone.

When I told Liv, she nearly crushed my windpipe by hugging me so hard. Screaming things like 'I knew it was coming' and 'have fun' and 'oh I wish I was coming' to which she then was glad she wasn't coming because she didn't want to be a cock blocker. I just laughed because, yes, the thought had crossed my mind. Not that I would tell her that, I know I would never live it down.

—

As much as I love travelling, Heathrow Airport is possibly my worst fear. Why in gods name are people so jolly and awake at the early mornings, and in England of all places. And why does there need to be so many people. My social battery isn't cut out for this.

As we approached the check-in counter, i stole a glance at Oscar, my heart pounding a little in my chest. We had promised that we would have no stupid arguments over this trip, but already I want to tease him. Say I forgot my passport or something. God, I'm aggravating in the mornings.

I cleared my throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung between us. "So, uh, ready for our little getaway?" I ask, forcing a casual tone despite the knot of nerves that twists in my stomach. Or maybe it's just Liv's cooking from last night?

Oscar nodded curtly, his lips pressed into a thin line. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replies, his voice tight with tension.

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad. Plus, it was your idea. Not mine." I smile widely at him.

"I know, I know. Now shut up, I'm trying to listen out for where we need to go."

"Yes sir." I say, smiling as I salute him, to which he bats my hand away.

As we passed through security and made our way to the gate (after Oscar told me to shut up about 5620 times) I couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled over me. It's not that I don't want to go to Cyprus but the thought of spending the next few days in close proximity to Oscar filled me with a mix of excitement and anxiety, a potent cocktail of emotions that left me feeling more nervous than I should be.

—
The flight was as good as any flight could be. But I was all too aware of the way his legs grazed mine, how he would turn to me and our faces would be so much closer, his breath fanning my face. We talked about the season, about each other, our families. It was nice.

At some point, he fell asleep on my shoulder and it warmed me so much that I wasn't convinced I wasn't burning. I didn't dare move, lest he wake up and remove his head, and I would once again feel the rush of coldness his loss creates. When a curl of hair brushed over his forehead I lifted my fingers to brush it away, almost shocked that I didn't have any hesitation to the action at all. He was so soundlessly asleep, so different when he fell to the whims of his body, that it nearly made me cry. Nearly.

—
After we landed we got transport to where we were staying, a small villa for just the two of us. A very dangerous game, especially if I start drinking, but I guess it's better to have the space to ourselves than random people that might make me feel weird. So a win is a win.