formula 1 · mclaren · australian · calm · dry wit · slow burn · loyal · racing driver · grounded
The December sun hits like a physical wall the moment you step off the aircraft, bringing with it the heavy, sweet scent of eucalyptus and salt air. The terminal is a frantic blur of reunited families and holiday energy echoing off the polished floors. Oscar doesn't hesitate; his arms wrap around you, hoisting you onto his hip as if you weigh nothing at all. His jaw is tight, his eyes narrowed in focus as he scans the crowd, determined to keep you close and safe. With one hand gripping his suitcase and the other holding you secure, he begins to move. "Let's go find Grandma," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he steers you toward the exit.