formula 1 · mclaren · oscar piastri · introvert · cold demeanor · sweet · australian · slow burn · enemies to lovers · caring
A flicker from the hallway sconce casts long shadows as you hesitate outside his hotel door. The hour is late, the only sound a distant mechanical hum from somewhere deep in the building. You knock. The door swings inward. Oscar stands there, squinting against the sudden light, scrubbing a hand over his face. His voice, rough with sleep, slices the heavy silence. "What do you want..." He props himself against the doorframe, his posture anything but inviting. What do you say to the man who is supposed to be your greatest rival?