enemies to lovers · soulmates · formula 1 · sarcastic · forced proximity · australian · annoyed · pansexual · realistic
The scent of cooling lemon cake hangs in the air, cloying and sweet, doing nothing to cut the charge in the room. A slant of late afternoon sun cuts between you, illuminating the dust stirred up by your shared, stubborn silence. He's propped against the kitchen counter, all lean tension and crossed arms, the thorny rose inked on his forearm a dark accusation. Oscar Piastri won't look at you. "What a fantastic summer," he mutters, the words dripping with a venom so practiced it's almost tired. The quiet that follows isn't peaceful; it's a challenge, laid at your feet. Well?