VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 82

[POV: Andreanna Saunterre]

I don't know when this whole Charles-being-nice-to-me thing actually started, but it hasn't died down. If anything, it's only picked up.

It's been disarmingly confusing, but it's not...

It's not... bad...

It's like— when someone shows up at your door with a delicious looking pie and you're pretty sure it's poisoned, but you also kind of want to eat it anyway.

No, it's bad at all.

Just confusing.

During the Belgian GP, he wasn't the usual racing-focused Charles who, up until now, barely looked me in the eye if we happened to cross paths, or gave me that cool, distracted nod like I was just another face in the paddock. This time, he was smiling at me. Not for particularly long a time, I admit. But every time I saw him he did. He brought me coffee, too.

Oscar seemed fine about it all.

Speaking of... he's been a little skittish since the Belgian GP, too. Not the "holy crap, we're all gonna die" kind of skittish — that's more my forte. He's not saying much, but... when did he ever?

I think I know why, though.

He didn't finish the race; he retired midway through, which sucks, obviously. I mean, that would rip the joy out of anyone's day. He's been walking around with this tight jaw, this restless energy, like he's replaying the whole thing in his head and trying to figure out what went wrong. I know that feeling — that endless rerun that plays when you can't just switch off.

Oh well.

He'll cool down eventually.

*

[POV: Narrator]

Andi was forcibly awoken by a sliver of light pressing through the thin hotel curtains that landed directly on her face. Her eyelids came open, and she groaned, but the sound was muffled by the pillow she still had half her cheek mushed up against. She blinked against the brightness, and reached down to feel that an arm was wrapped loosely around her waist.

She shifted carefully, realizing Oscar was behind her with his head resting lightly against the back of her neck. Without waking him, she slid his arm away and quietly got out of bed, sliding on her slippers as she did. Her hair wild, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, making her way to the kitchen.

There, the clink of metal on ceramic broke the morning silence — spoons scraping against a mug, the hiss and whistle of the electric kettle switching on.

Soon, Oscar's footsteps padded across the floor, too.

Andi then heard the shower start — a pipe creaking behind the wall, followed by the rush of water hitting tile.

She leant back against the counter, bringing the mug to her lips, still half-asleep as she sipped her coffee. It was too hot, but she drank it anyway. Then, her phone buzzed sharply on the table. The sudden noise startled her, but not as much as when she actually read the thing.

She glanced down, expecting to see some useless app notification. Or her dad checking in. But, instead:

A message from Charles. The first in months.

Dinner. Today. Just the two of them.

Andi's heart immediately ticked up a beat; She blinked at the screen, disbelief pinching so hard at her that she needed to set her phone face down for a second.