𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri

PART TWELVE

I personally think all my OCs need a restraining order against me fr

Word count; 2,143

Tomás

Oscar tugged at the soap dispenser, washing his hands beneath the faucet.

"What, are you following me now?" I hissed, stepping around him to the paper towels.

"I'm here for the same reason you are." He said, clearly not wanting to engage with my spite.

If only I cared.

"Could've fooled me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned.

"Don't play innocent with me, mate." I kept my voice low. "Remember, I was the one who slammed the door in your face. You were having a pretty good time watching, weren't you?"

"Look, Taz-"

I didn't bother waiting for him to finish, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt and pushing him against the wall of the restroom. After all, it was because of him that Pierre kept avoiding me. At least, that was the reason I told myself for provoking him.

However, unlike all those nights ago, Oscar fought back, and soon we were scuffling around, twisting and turning in stalemate.

"What's your problem?!" Oscar exclaimed.

I would've answered if I had the chance; instead, Oscar had lost his balance, temple knocking against the basin as he fell to the floor.

Oh shit.

He blinked frantically, hand grasping at his forehead, where a deep pang had spawned as a result. Anger morphed into concern as I kelt beside him, reaching for his arms - which he defended, rightfully, thinking I was still attacking him.

"Fuck off!" I demanded, "Come on!"

He gave in to my assistance, my arm slipping around his torso. Shifting his weight onto me, I guided us out of the bathroom, remembering how different the circumstances were from when I last helped him in such a way.

Liam descended the corridor towards us, his objective to find me suddenly overcome by another concern.

"Don't ask."

"What the fuck," He glanced at Oscar, how his head hung over his shoulders. "What the fuck happened?"

I didn't bother stopping to answer, "We're gonna be late."

"What-" He called from behind me. "Taz!"

Unsure where I was taking us, I stepped through a pair of double-swinging doors, into a kitchen of some kind, packed full of workers. One noticed us, stopping in astonishment.

"Ice?" I questioned, readjusting Oscar's weight on my side. "Do you have ice?"

The worker gulped, taking a moment before his legs sprung into action. Oscar's head lolled, and I let go of him, allowing him to lean on the industrial counter nearby.

"How is it?"

His eyes remained shut, "Fucking hurts."

Ignoring his curt response, I clicked my fingers in front of his nose, "Stay awake, baby."

Scowling at me, I turned, met with the worker who presented a pack of frozen beans, wrapped neatly in a cloth.

"Here." I tossed it at Oscar.