Alyara Stroll has burst into the F1 world with much more than a bang. She's driving for RedBull off her own success rather than money, and she's trying her hardest to fit in and win her first race in her second season. Enter Ollie Bearman. His debut...
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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡- 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠
⋆📦⭒🤎⭒🍪⭒🐻⋆
alyara stroll
I woke up pretty quickly, considering I was in someone else's house. Melbourne was still pretty chilly outside, by the looks of people in winter clothes, and when I walked out of Ollie's room (I slept on the trundle bed, okay?), I stood a little starstruck at him.
He was cooking breakfast.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Ollie happily calls to me, as I lurk towards the kitchenette's bench seats. I didn't sleep well, on the guest bed in Ollie's room, but...
WAIT.
WAIT.
WAIT.
WAIT.
What did he just say?
"Is that you trying to flirt with me?" I yawn, sitting down on a very annoyingly uncomfortable stool.
"You're in one of my shirts and wearing my trackies. I thought you got that gist yesterday." He grinned, eyeing my outfit up and down.
I was? Dammit, I was. His shirt was cream, thick enough so I didn't have to wear a bra, and his trackies were fleece-lined, and blue. I didn't see him wearing sweatpants often, so I was a little confused.
"I made acai!" He turned around to me with a smile that made me completely forget about what he was saying before. Even though his face was lit up, I didn't understand what 'ah-sigh' was.
"What?" I asked, my drowsiness quickly drifting away into curiosity.
"Acai! I don't know where the nearest Oakberry is so I just went to a Coles and got the ingredients." He tried to explain, passing me a glass of water while I subconsciously braided my hair.
I knew about his fondness for Oakberry, but I didn't know what a Coles or an Oakberry was. "What the hell is acai?" I took a slow sip of water.
"How?" He questioned, looking at me appalled. "Here, taste it."
I saw him pass me a little purple concoction in a small white bowl with a metal spoon. He had sprinkled berries and slices of banana on top to look pretty, and I laughed to myself. He had said it wrong, I wasn't dumb when it came to breakfast. I love food. "Oh... no, I know what you mean. You pronounce this as 'ah-sigh'?"
He looked at me suspiciously, taking a bite out of his bowl while I took a sip of water, the tasteless sensation weirding me out. "How are you supposed to say it?" He tried to clarify, nervously raking a hand through his abnormally fluffy hair.
