THE END | Oscar Piastri

63. championship

Sav's pov

I trace the lines of his lips with my finger. The curl that had fallen in front of his face was so perfectly laid, it makes him look so pretty. I take the curl in my finger, twirling it around.

I rarely ever woke up before him, but now that I had, I'm rather enjoying the sight. He even outshines the view of the city outside of the open window. Really, there's no competition.

I didn't want to wake him, we were up later then we should've been last night so he needed every second he could get. He qualified on pole yesterday, which was especially needed. If he wins this race and the next, he wins the championship. So it's safe to say his qualifying called for some... celebration.

Accidentally, I lose my grip on the strand of hair. He flinches when the hair hits his face again, and blinks awake. "No! No, go back to sleep." I pout. Our faces are literally inches apart.

He laughs at me. "Why?"

"Cause you look so cute when you're asleep." He raises a brow. "So you don't think I'm cute when I'm awake?" His smile is teasing. I roll my eyes, sighing. "Yes, I do. But you looked so peaceful." I trace shapes on his bare chest with my nails.

He stares down at my hand, a lazy smile on his face. "I'll pretend for you." He cheekily suggests, closing his eyes. I scoff a laugh. "No, it's okay." I mutter, shuffling closer to him. I wrap my arms around him, and press my face into his chest.

Neither of us say anything, finding comfort in the silent presence of each other. He plays with my hair, the accidental tugs cause he found a knot making me laugh.

After awhile, I hum, remembering something. I look up at him, and he looks down at me, his features soft with a hint of a smile on his lips. "I sold my flat in New York." He blinks, and then laughs. "That's really good timing because I was going to ask if you wanted to move to Monaco with me." I sit up, shocked.

He stays on his side, a concerned look taking over his features. "Actually? Like, you're not fucking with me? Cause I swear if-" "I'm being so serious. I want to live with you." His hand on my arm rubs it comfortingly.

I don't give him a vocal answer. I just kiss him. He must have expected it, because his hands are in my hair before my lips even touch his. It's soft. There's no rush for anything or hunger for more (even though I'm straddling his lap). Only a physical display of a shared love.

"I guess that is a yes then." He laughs airily. The smile on my lips hurts the muscles in my face, but I don't dare drop it. "You guessed right." I giggle, placing multiple kisses on his lips, quick ones this time.

His hands travel down my back, stopping to rest on my ass. I stare into his eyes, my body held up by my two hands on either side of his head. I can't fight the smile on my face even if I wanted to. Something about him gets in my mind and controls the curve of my lips. It's probably cause he's so damn pretty.

I drop the support of my hands, falling on top of him. The impact pushes an "oof" out of him. I can hear the beat of his heart. It's racing, going a thousand miles a minute like the car he drives on the streets outside. I chuckle at the way my head follows his chest with each inhale and exhale of breath.

"I love you." I tell him, kissing his chest.

-★-

Oscar was in a meeting with the team, leaving me to my own devices. As usual when I had nothing else to do, I took a walk around the paddock.

I had my phone in one hand, and a celsius I bribed from Charles in the other hand. By bribed, I mean that I asked him with a 'pretty please with a cherry on top'. He thought the saying was so ridiculous he went and retrieved one for me.