𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮; oscar piastri ✔

PART THIRTY FIVE

So uh spoiler warning: this may or may not be the last chapter :3

Word count; 3,269

Addison

— November 18th, 2023. Las Vegas, Nevada.

Lando had spun out.

A safety car emerged onto the track, cars piling into a neat trail behind it, wondering how the race had been interrupted so early; it was only Lap 3. My hand covered my mouth, watching the screen in the garage as it focused on Lando's McLaren, which had smacked into a barrier at full force.

"Who was it?" Oscar asked through the radio, his voice digging into my ears.

"Confirmed: it was Lando." The engineer responded.

"Shit." Oscar muttered. "Is he okay?"

"Waiting for a response, I'll keep you updated."

"Okay."

I glanced at Lando's engineer, who was harrassing his own radio.

"He's okay." Oscar's engineer stated. "Probably a rough night in the medical centre."

I released a sigh of relief, folding my arms together; the collision wasn't serious, but the g-force alone could've knocked him unconscious. In its own time, the race continued, Oscar finishing tenth, but all I could focus on was visiting Lando, seeing for myself that he was okay, knowing he was beating himself up for a crash he couldn't control. Parking up his car, Oscar climbed out, finding me in the corner of the garage as he usually did, for the short moment he had before the post-race interview.

"See he's okay?" He asked, though it was more of a statement if anything.

I nodded vigorously, his lips pecking my cheek briefly before he was gone. A steward guided me to the medical centre, to the many rooms lined up in case of a fatal accident, where we stopped at the last one. I stepped through the threshold, Lando lying on the bed, eyes barely open. Still, he managed to put on a smile as he regarded me.

"You scared the life out of me." I told him off, earning a small chuckle in return. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, his eyes moving separately from one another - the affect of being subject to the usual tests a driver faced after crashes.

"Not hurt." He croaked. "Just adrenaline."

"Can I get you anything?"

He shook his head. "Where did Osc come?"

"Tenth."

Another nod, clearly dissatisfied; not with Oscar, but the fact he could've given the team a better chance at the penultimate race of the season.

"It's not your fault." I told him, sensing what was happening in his mind. "I know you'll believe it if it comes from me."

He smiled again. A nurse entered the room, explaining they were ready to take him for more tests.

"Will you tell Osc-" He began, interrupting himself with his own light-headedness.

My palm met his forearm affectionately, "We'll see you tomorrow."

I returned to the garage.

Switching off the bathroom light, I peeled my hair off the back of my neck and to one side, ready to climb into bed. Oscar was already beneath the sheets, scrolling on his phone whilst he waited for me to join him, and I did so gladly, snuggling up to him under the warmth of the duvet. It was nearly three in the morning - the consequence of such a late race - and we both couldn't wait to go to sleep.