𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri ✔

ALTERNATE EPILOGUE III

This is it. I think my heart is actually breaking. I love this story too much.

One last chapter, dedicated to: Discoball0 Daybreakloi blackmaumau reallynotzoa Rockrid_1852 diagnosedpsychopath mintythinmints jaredmccain77 VSheikho magovkid 0lhilith0 nxlxxmxg Elybiss 2bQueen (sorry if I missed anyone, comment and I'll add you <3)  

Word count; 3,920

Tomás

— August 1st, 2030. Sant'Agata Bolognese, Italy.
𝙎𝙞𝙭 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧.

Early afternoon sun beaming down on us, my feet glided over the grass, eyes set on one target.

Oscar.

He was dribbling the ball down the lawn, over to P who waved her arms in the air, indicating for a pass. I quickly caught up with him - he could never outrun me - and slipped between him, hoping to tackle the ball. A second faster, and perhaps with a teammate, the maneuver would've worked.

But I wasn't quick enough.

And I didn't have a teammate.

He booted the ball at P, who shot it at the back of the net. Both yelled in celebration. I bent over, hands on my thighs, chest heaving - six years on, and my lungs still struggled to expand to their full capacity.

Oscar placed a hand on my back, "It's the effort that counts."

My eyes, momentarily shut, darted open, and I didn't hesitate before launching at his legs, taking us both to the ground. He laughed, barely putting up a fight as we rolled around, my hands harrassing his shirt, his arms, anything to get back at his remark.

A cameriera beckoned from the porch, "Mr Facundo, a visitor!"

"One second!" I yelled back, determined not to lose this fight, too.

We'd been playing two versus one - me versus Oscar and P. Something about how if I hadn't been a Formula 1 driver, I would've found my way into the premier league.

"Mr Facundo!"

"You should get that." Oscar told me, smirk flowing over his lips.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." I countered. "He can wait. He knows the way in."

We rolled again, so I was on top of him, straddling his hips. We were pushing each other, all hands, until my head bowed, teeth finding his earlobe.

"Hey!" His palms latched onto my cheeks, pulling me away, "You fucker."

"Language!" I chastised.

"That's it."

Before I could react, he flipped us again, quick to his feet, arms reaching for my torso. He hoisted me over his shoulder. I laughed, rawly, thudding his back as he walked us along the lawn.

"Put him down!" P giggled, dropping the ball in front of her.

"He started it." Oscar said simply.