VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 83

[POV: Narrator]

Charles had driven Andi back, all calm confidence with one hand on the wheel. He gave her flowers, too — kept them hidden in the backseat the whole time, the paper wrap rustling quietly every time they hit a bump. She hadn't noticed. It was an easy handoff, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. To Andi, it was. She tried to play it off, tried to keep her shoulders loose, her voice even, tried not to grin too obviously or say something embarrassingly sincere.

She failed.

Quite miserably, actually; she stumbled over a thank-you, turned too fast, and tripped up a step as he waved her off.

By the time she made it back to her and Oscar's room, a smile had settled into her face and it showed no signs of wearing off.

The door clicked shut; the room was half lit, and there was no sign of life, but all she could focus on was the bouquet in her hands.

They weren't just gas station roses or something he grabbed last minute. These had clearly been picked out—soft yellow tulips, a few pale pink ones tucked between, and sprigs of green leaves dotted here and there. The stems were wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red ribbon, neat and thoughtful.

Andi turned them in her hands, careful not to press too hard. She dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and let herself grin like an idiot.

"I'm back!" she called out, the sound bright in the quiet room.

All she got was silence; No answer.

Andi looked around, then called out again, "Oscar?"

From the kitchenette came the faint sound of a drawer closing. A second later, he stepped out, wiping his hands on a tea towel.

"Hey!" she said, smiling, dropping her keys into the bowl by the door. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine," Oscar replied. His voice was unreadable, his eyes flicking once to the flowers and then away. "How was it?"

"Good," she said immediately, practically bouncing. "Really, really good. We went to this Italian place near some river — like, checkered cloth napkins kind of deal. Super cute. Super expensive. He paid, though. And—" she held up the flowers— "ta-da!"

Oscar gave a short, thin smile. "Nice."

She blinked at his tone but brushed it off. "Right? I didn't even think he knew what flowers were. Honestly, it was... nice. I had fun." She laughed softly. "I know, shocker."

Oscar turned, heading back into the kitchen. "Flowers and carbs? Big night."

"Hey— seriously, are you good? You're being a bit—"

"Sorry I'm not jumping for joy 'cause he discovered what tulips are."

That made her pause. "Okay... wow. Harsh much?"

He walked off, disappearing around the corner.

She followed him in, still trying to smile, still thinking he was joking. "Look, I know it's not, like, a big thing, okay? I know that. But I liked them. And, I mean—he didn't have to. Right? He could've just dropped me off, said thanks, and driven off. But he picked them out. He knows I like tulips—like, back from before. And even though he—"

"They're just flowers, Andi."

Something in his voice had sharpened.

Andi stilled, the smile dropping from her face. For a second she just blinked at him, like she wasn't sure she'd heard right.

"What?"

Now, real confusion crossed her face, brow furrowed.

"What's your problem?" she asked, quietly.