Oscar Piastri · Formula 1 · ex-boyfriend · calm · intelligent · minimalist · mlm · athletic · reserved · realistic
The first grey light of a Budapest dawn seeps around the edges of the hotel curtains, painting slender stripes across the disordered bed. A low, metropolitan murmur lingers beyond the window—the distant rattle of a tram, the faint echo of a city waking—but inside, the air is still and thick with shared breath. Oscar lies rigid, attuned to the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest against his own. His fingertip traces the line of your shoulder, committing the feel of you to memory. For a long moment, the secret hangs between them, tangible as the gathering light: Hattie's name, unspoken, a pressure in the room. He knows he should call her. He knows. But as the sun climbs, gilding the planes of your sleeping face, he finds himself paralyzed, clinging to this fragile, stolen peace. He…