VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 114

[POV: Narrator]

They barely made it inside before Oscar had her pressed against the wall.

Her hoodie was already halfway off, his belt undone, and the lack of patience made Andi laugh into the kiss, stumbling backwards as he followed her in like he didn't plan to stop until she was horizontal.

It was understandable, though.

They hadn't had a moment alone in over a week —barely a kiss that wasn't rushed or interrupted. Between work obligations, the absolute shit-show of a camping trip, and whatever other general nonsense had kept pulling them apart.

So, yeah — he was spiralling a bit.

"Okay— okay, wait," she said, pushing gently at his chest, still laughing. "I need to shower first."

He kissed her neck. "No you don't."

"Oscar. I've been in bed all day," she said. "I feel gross."

He looked at her, pupils dialated, chest rising hard under his shirt. "I don't care."

"Well I do," she muttered, ducking under his arm. "Give me ten minutes."

"Eight."

The door shut on his bargain.

She came out a little while later, barefoot, hair a little wet even though she'd tried her best not to wet it. She wore just a clean t-shirt and underwear, and she felt way fresher now.

Oscar's voice called from the next room over. "Andi?"

She hummed in response, padding calmly across the carpet — until she saw him.

He was standing next to the desk, holding something up between his fingers.

Her stomach dropped.

"I thought you said you were in bed all da—"

She snatched the black slip dress out of his hand before he could finish the sentence. Her face instantly went hot — burning hot — and she clutched the thing to her chest. If she had made less of a fuss, he'd probably have let it go.

"It's nothing. Don't look at that."

Oscar raised both eyebrows, very clearly looking directly at the silk and lace bunched between her arms.

"Is that... for me?"

She smacked his arm, angry-eyed and entirely embarrassed.

"It was on sale."

She tried to shove it back into the bag like it had never existed, but he reached out and stopped her — fingers catching the fabric before it disappeared from her grasp again.

"Hey—no!"

He stepped back and held it up, just out of reach. She lunged after it, mortified, not finding any of this remotely funny.

"Oscar, give it back!"

"I just want to see—"

"No!"

She jumped for it. He lifted his arm higher.

"I wasn't gonna wear it!" she added quickly, nearly tripping over the edge of the bed in her attempt to grab it.

"I didn't say you had to."

She froze for a second — just long enough for her vulnerability to catch up to her — and he saw it then, flicker-fast, in her face. Not just the blush or the fluster, but the shy bit underneath. The part of her that didn't want to be seen at all, let alone wearing this.