eri12
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Every point he’d gotten since Baku felt like something stolen. Like he’d been the one crashing Oscar’s car into walls, the one telling him to risk it all on every turn, or the one making him miserable after every race.
But—Brazil had been perfect. Right?
Oscar had crashed into a wall. Oscar had rammed into another car. Oscar had gotten a ten seconds penalty. And Lando had extended the lead by fifteen points.
Lando couldn’t be happier.
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"I know that I would've been scared if it was me, I heard the radio Lando, I know how scary it is not knowing if you are on fire or not" Oscar tried to keep a calm voice, tried to keep his act together like his heart didn't break when he listened to the radio after the race. He waited for Lando's answer, saw his eyes glisten a little and how he bit his lower lip like he was trying to hold back.
Lando failed miserably at holding back, sitting up with way too much force and looking at Oscar "perfect face" Piastri in his perfect little brown eyes
"Well it wasn't you now was it? It was me. And I said I’m fine!" He was suddenly shouting, a tear threatening to run down his cheek but not coming out, he didn't know why crying was so hard for him, everything would be easier if he could just cry it out and be over it. But he didn't cry, he got angry, he got drunk, he overthinks and yells at the one person trying to comfort him.
Oscar looked like he was ready for it, smiling slightly at how Lando was finally letting out his feelings, he didn't mind being on the receiving end of all the yelling, he would've been mad at lando if it was the other way around.