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He woke up slowly, almost begrudgingly.
The mix of the sunlight that escaped from the blinds, the gurgles near him and a strangely wet little hand pressed on his cheek were enough to make him blink a couple of times. Trying to be conscious enough about his surroundings he smiled when the little hand kept patting his cheek as if asking to pay attention.
Oscar opened his eyes and smiled.
The little baby who was leaning over him while patting his face with her drooled hand reciprocated the smile, the toothless smile and sweet giggles filling the room as her milky scent mixed with Oscar’ sandalwood and the faint chamomile coming from the different clothes arranged in the nest. His eyes still blurry due to his own sleepiness, he turned a bit to look over the night stand and catch the hour, but he couldn’t read the numbers, his vision too foggy and blurry to make out the number, yet based on the sunlight Oscar could say that it was early in the morning.
With that he decided to spoil his pup, looking at her again, adoring her as she smiled at him with that toothless smile she always had when her parents gave her their whole attention.
— Good morning, Didi.
The pup giggled again just as Oscar lifted her into his chest, cooing softly when the little girl started to search over his chest for her source of food.
— Oh, so you’re hungry, that’s why you woke me? Oh intelligent girl, come ‘ere —. The omega propped himself up, opening his shirt so the little girl could suck from his nipple to get her precious milk. He winced a bit when she started to suck harder. — Easy there, Lydia. I know you’re hungry but no need to hurt mum, dear.
Oscar’s words lacked any type of irritation, his eyes focused on the blonde strands of hair of his daughter, admiring her cuteness and her relaxed expression as she continued to eat. Her eyes closed –not letting her dam to see her watercoloured eyes–, her pale and soft skin already warm as she laid on top of her mother’s chest. She breathed with ease, only caring of getting fed, of having her omega parent stroking her hair and back. And Oscar did so, he muttered some soft words while nuzzling her, scenting the little girl and enjoying the quiet moment between the two of them.
Being cuddled and loved.
It was a soft giggle that broke the little bubble between mother and pup.
Oscar looked up towards the source, finding his mate leaning over the doorframe with the sweetest smile on his face, the alpha’s own scent coming as calming and relaxing as always. His usual neat hair was tousled and his pajamas were slightly off. George smiled when his mate extended his hand towards him, asking him in a quiet way to stay near him, to stay in bed for a few more minutes.
The Brit kissed the Aussie’s forehead before nuzzling their pup’s head too, taking the space beside Oscar and immediately putting him on his lap, kissing his cheek. — Good morning, sweetheart, didn’t think you were already awake, if not I would have prepared something for you to eat.
— No need, I just woke up. This little girl couldn’t go any minute further without her breakfast, so here we are.
— I see, you cheeky pup little Di —. George’s finger traced the outlines of his daughter’s cheek, just for the girl to furrow her brow and move from his father’s touch, grumbling a bit. — Lydia Grace Russell, don’t give me an attitude at eight in the morning.
So it was just eight in the morning, Oscar reminded himself, already planning their day in his mind.
The couple laughed as the little girl continued to eat and ignore her father. Falling into a comfortable silence as they adored her from their little bubble in their Monaco apartment, the sun warmed them as they heard from the distance the sea waves crashing over the shore and Lydia’ soft breathing as she fell asleep again. The omega turned towards his mate, his eyes completely fixed on George’s frame. He started to see the resemblance between him and their daughter, their mesmerizing light blue eyes, the way their hair curled on the tips and their demanding aura; yet, there was a bit of him in her, her pale skin with some beauty mark across her back and some on her cheeks and neck, or her hair –that his mother swears is the same tone Oscar had when he was a little boy–.
Their perfect balance.
— You’re staring.
— I am.
Their gazes met, their eyes lighting up as they just looked through the other, the chamomile and sandalwood mixing as they approached. Their lips finally met in a sweet kiss. Oscar sighed with ease when they separated, accommodating himself to lean over George’s whole body, rearranging the baby on his chest so she wouldn’t fall.
It was just a quiet morning for two F1 drivers, one on maternity leave and the other just enjoying the winter break between seasons. No media pens, no other drivers inviting them to parties or dinner, no team calls nor statistics debriefs. Only them, Oscar and George Russel relaxing in their nest with their almost one-year-old baby safely relaxing with them.
Only God knows how much time passed as the couple stared at each other, not daring to talk but their gazes saying enough in that silent language of theirs which both George and Oscar had learned over time that they loved each other from different motorhomes. It was until Lydia started to move again –grumbling as she turned to look up at her parents– that they came back to the world, giggling at the sleepy expression that their daughter had.
— Look who wakes up again. Heya there, Didi.
—- Time’s up little girl, you need a bath and a proper meal before a quick nap. Come on, come with dad, love.
George took Lydia in his arms, kissing her puffy cheek as she made some more grumpy noises while her father propped them out of the nest towards the bathroom, leaving Oscar to rearrange his robes over his chest and go towards the kitchen to prepare their breakfast. He walked through the corridor, looking at every portrait and frame they had in their walls and shelves, the selfies of them in vacations or the first photos of the beginning of their relationship, the one they took in the hospital when Lydia was born, of the baby shower, some of George wins in this last season, others of their families and friends… Memories of the life they’ve lived through the last years.
Oscar smiled at them.
Smiling at the memories, of the fact that even if he stopped racing after the 2024 season he had made something else, he raised his and George’s daughter, and he started their family. Maybe a bit early, maybe they should have waited a bit more or have used better suppressants, but they were here. Mated and with a little girl. George had put aside any platonic feelings he had towards Oscar, he had forgotten any other emotions he felt towards anyone else who wasn’t the Aussie omega and chose him.
And that mattered for Oscar.
Being chosen over and over again.
He placed the plates over the table, just a simple toast with avocado, tomato and scrambled eggs with a cup of tea, and then the bowl with some fruit puree for Lydia. He didn’t need to call for his mate, because in a matter of seconds the alpha appeared already bathed and dressed with their little girl dolled up with a beautiful flowy yellow dress that just made her look like a princess. A grumpy one, but still a princess. The pup made grabby hands towards Oscar, wanting to be held by her dam rather than by her sire, but George didn't take any offense at that, just chuckled when he passed the girl to his mate.
— I would be hurt that she clearly prefers you if I didn’t envy her. Like, being in your arms all day? —. The Brit pecked Oscar's cheek. — Lucky pup.
The omega laughed as he got flustered. — Silly alpha.
They sat and started eating, George making funny faces so Lydia could open her mouth and eat, Oscar shooting glances at them as his heart swelled with pride, love and joy at the domesticity of that mere interaction. Their girl babbling between spoons of puree and waving her little hands as she tried to talk and his alpha only nodding and even asking little questions to the girl, an one-sided conversation that was perfect enough for Oscar to take his phone and try to record it for the future. But as soon as he took his phone he realized it was turned off and completely out of battery –which was good, he swear he took it from the charger and it was at 100%--, he looked back to his family, George still talking with Lydia and their plates still full with food, yet Oscar’s was empty.
Did he eat that quickly? He didn’t remember inhaling the food, there wasn’t any trace of remaining food in his mouth or even the flavor of them on his tongue. Was he that hungry?.
His stomach ached as he kept looking at the empty plate, he got up, feeling dizzy and strange as he took some wobbly steps towards the bathroom, George looked up to him, his brows furrowed as he noticed how Oscar seemed a bit off, paler and sick. — Darling, are you alright?.
Oscar nodded, feeling nauseous. — Yeah, I-I think I ate too fast, I’ll take a quick shower and then lay down for a bit.
— Okay. Be careful, Osc, call me if you need anything.
— I will
Slowly Oscar went towards the bathroom, deciding after a long second that the light was too much for him at that moment. He took off every single piece of clothing from his body, tossing them as he entered the shower and the warm water embraced his aching limbs. The heaviness of the last hours washed over him as the glass doors fogged with the steam, the omega hummed along as he took his time to explore his own body, feeling only numbness even when he scrubbed his skin raw, when his pale skin over his still swollen belly turned angry red as the tiger strips that adorned his lower abdomen –a reminder of Lydia’s presence–.
It felt wrong.
He turned to see his reflection, only finding the blurry outline of his own body, mismatched forms and blurred colours. He couldn’t even see well through it –the lights were off, he reminded himself–, but the sun was still up, no? Why wasn't there enough light? He should be able to tell his reflection even if there was steam. Oscar let the water continue its course, his body standing still, he didn’t register when the door was opened, much less when he was draped with a fluffy towel, he didn’t even get the words out of the man standing right in front of him.
Oscar just looked through him.
His eyes fixed on the reflection that the mirror showed.
Or the lack of it.
And it was terrifying.
Oscar kept his eyes fixed on the mirror, trying to find himself in it or at least just the blurry version of his own body. But there was nothing. Not a shadow nor a figure. Just the reflection of the bathroom that now had the lights on, he couldn’t see anything more, not even the back of his mate, said mate that was in front of him asking him if he was alright.
Was he?.
His eyes went from the mirror to look at George, and the image was so devastating just as he gulped, feeling his own throat sore when he detailed every feature of his alpha’s face, scanning every bit of him as if he would disappear in a few seconds. Oscar’s vision was blurry when a loud sob escaped from his mouth as he crumbled into George’s embrace. Hugging him tight and crying over his chest.
The Brit’s arms were grounding him immediately, his own voice filled with pure shock and desperation. — Osc? Darling, what happened?.
— W-wait…
George took Oscar’s face in his hands, his eyes wide as he tried to see if his mate was injured or something by the heartbreaking way he was crying. — Wait? Love, you’re okay? Please, if we need to go to the hospital we’ll go, Lydia is already asleep and we can call my mom to come, she won’t get mad that we woke her in the middle of the night.
Oscar whimpered again.
Shaking his head, choking with his own breath, not finding the words, nor his voice to express the turmoil that was his head. Night? That couldn’t be, it was just past ten in the morning twenty minutes ago. Or it was an hour ago? What does George mean that Lydia is already asleep? It can’t be. It’s this what his mother mentioned about post-partum? Was he going insane? This can’t be real. This must be a-
— Oscar? You’re scaring me. Talk to me, dear.
The omega turned again, his eyes locking with his mate’s, his breath was still shaky, but he needed to say something, he needed George to soothe him and tell him that all was in his head, that he was probably tired, that tomorrow they would go to the hospital and make different appointments to see what was wrong, he needed the reassurance that only his alpha could give him.
— The mirror, I-I can’t see me, George. I can’t.
For a second a flicker of terror passed through George’s eyes, but soon enough it was changed with a light of love, something that made Oscar’s heart both flutter and ache.
— Darling… It is normal that you don’t recognise your own body when you see yourself in the mirror. You birthed a whole human not even a year ago! —. The Brit half smiled, kissing Oscar’s temple with care. — You are still you even if the mirror tells you otherwise.
The air between them seemed to change as the alpha muttered those words, taking Oscar in his embrace as he growled softly, the vibrations coming from his throat calming the younger man in his arms. They stayed like that for another couple of minutes, just enjoying the quiet moment between them; Oscar nuzzled his nose onto George’s neck, scenting the alpha with how own sandalwood scent, yet he couldn’t find the chamomile no matter how hard he pressed his nose on his mate’s glands. It was completely mild, no scent, no relaxing notes, not a hint that George was there even if he was actually pressed into him.
He opened his eyes again.
The mirror was the only thing that welcomed him. A mirror that only showed the blurry figure of George Russell, a mirror that didn’t reflect Oscar at all, a mirror that the more Oscar looked at it the more it changed. There were subtle changes, but at the same time they were noticeable. A flicker on the light, going from warm to cool, the change on the tiles, going from white to beige, different patterns and sizes, the shower changing into a tub and a shower again. All changed right in front of his eyes, as long as his eyes kept looking at the mirror the more the place changed.
Oscar felt nauseous.
But overall, he felt helpless. He knew, the memories went back at him, the fact that he couldn’t smell George, the drastical change sthroughout the day, how lost he felt all day and how his m- George tried to make him not to see the mirror. The fat that he couldn’t use the phone or he wasn’t able to read the hour earlier. It was all there. Right in front of him, and he knowingly had turned his head and ignored it, until it came back to bite him in the worst way possible.
The Aussie tilted his head up, his voice strained. — Love…?.
George hummed, his arms hugging him closer, yet the touch was barely perceptible. — Yeah, Osc? I’m here, no matter what, you’ll always have me.
— Then, why can’t I feel you?.
Silence.
Oscar’s eyes filled up with tears as he couldn’t feel anything else, not the water in his body, not the tears going down his cheeks, not the arms wrapped around him and not the warm it was supposed to be there.
— Wait a little bit more, please.
The response took the omega by surprise, the eyes that looked right at him were filled with sorrow and a dull melancholy that matched Oscar’s ones.
— What do you mean?.
— It’s too early for it
The words didn’t registered in his mind, yet it didn’t mattered when he felt himself fell into the ground, his back finding a wall that wasn’t supposed to be there as he leaned on it. He felt the water dripping from his face, hair and body –it wasn’t only tears anymore–, when did he entered the shower again? When did he put clothes? The questions kept coming up to his head, nevertheless there weren’t real answers. Or maybe there was, but he wasn’t ready to face them. He just felt numb, how by every second his mind escaped from the place, with each minute the room turned more and more darker, with every blink the bathroom changed its form, with every breath he took his limbs grew heavier.
Still he waited.
For what? Who knows, he just know he need to wait a little bit more.
Then he felt it.
The shower had stopped and a familiar weight was put on his chest.
He hoped for a warmth that never came, but still he held that small bundle of joy close to his chest, cooing softly at the faceless baby placed in his arms. He squinted his eyes, trying to get the memory of the cute little girl he hel not so long ago, to see her watercoloured eyes, or the beautymarks alon- Was in her cheeks or in her chin? Was she blonde or a brunette? His eyes couldn’t make out her face, he still put her close to his chest, purring slowly so her sleep couldn’t be interrupted.
Oscar’s eyes were playing games, but the omega instincts were strong enough for him to release his scent and bathe her in it, not daring to broke the moment, he let himself close his eyes and imagine the touch of those little hands, the warmth of the mouth that he thought it was pressed on his forehead. Oscar kept his eyes close, hard and painful, his mind making up scents and sound, textures and touches, filling the gaps that were slipping from his fingers.
Then everything started to fade, he felt it. The air changed and a cruel cold chill went up to his spine.
— No…
His arms were light.
— Please, a bit more…
There wasn’t anyone pressed against him.
— Just a minute more, please God.
The humming stopped and there wasn’t another breath but his.
— Wait!.
§
He woke up with a jolt, his instincts high.
The lack of light was terrifying at first, the sound of water welcomed him as his clothes appeared to be glued to his skin, the water that went down his body was cold enough to make him blink a couple of times as he adapted to his surroundings. Trying to see between the different shadows where was he, just as the water kept dripping down.
Oscar opened his eyes and whimpered.
The bathroom floor was cold and the shower was still on. His arms in a cradled position as he wasn’t able to feel his legs, the tiles completely ruining his posture while his whole body shivering as a crawling cold got up to his bones as his sandalwood scent mixed itself with the clean and null scent of the body soap that was all over the place. His lids weighted a ton as he blinked to gain consciousness, his bones crcking as he moved slowly from his fetal position on the tiles, with his vision still blurry he managed to crawl outside the shower, calling for his home device to tell the hour, already imagining how late it would be by the lack of sun in the room.
With that he tried to get up, feeling every bone of his body ache, when he finally got up he looked right at him in the mirror, his face taking all his attention when he saw the awfully pale skin with eyebags and slightly purpled lips.
— Good evening, Oscar, it is twenty to nine at night.
The omega whimpered again just as Oscar lifted his gaze to the mirror again, wining softly when the reflection showed a toned and muscular body of an athlete.
Not the one of a dam.
His abdomen was chiseled, no visible stretchmars –more than the ones he had when he gre up–, his neck was untouched and he looked disheveled.
The realization hit hard.
This time the longer he looked at the mirror nothing changed, he only realized the new imperfection on his sken, the way his body trembled and the darker tones it had. His eyes were adapting well to the darkness, starting to differentiate between the shadows and the outlines of his body, but nothing changed. Everything was the same, the bathroom looked exactly as always and nothing spinned. A dull ache came to his chest as he noticed how lonely it felt being there, there wasn’t no music playing the background, there wasn’t anyone waiting for him in the other room.
He was alone.
He always have been.
He have never been in a relationship for the past years, he once had, but he was more focused on his uprising formula one driver career, in showing what he was capable of, in demonstrating to his last team what a driver he could become, to escalate the ladder to the championship that looked more and more closer as he got to win more races.
Oscar didn’t have time.
No time to experiment heats when he was on heavy supressants, no time for long time committed relationships when he could get distracted so easily, he bottled everything inside of his mind. The crushes, the longing stares, the yearning sighs, the mourning tears that appeared whenever he looked at the other drivers of the grid. He learned the patterns, how to smile to the camera and accept the hug from his co-workers without appearing to be clingy or melt in their embrace, he teached himself on how to congratulate others and not spit any venom in his words, he learned how to be the prototype of a well collected omega to the tabloids.
Focused.
Funny.
Fine.
He wasn’t any of those.
His eyes were always lingering to other scuderias, his mind filled with impossible scenarios of what he wanted to do, he masked the pain and roll with it as an easy smile appeared on his face, telling media about his little adventures or just doing some side jokes about the grid to sweep away the uncomfortable silences. And for the most part, he wasn’t fine.
He hasn’t been for a long time.
Not when he suppress his omega instincts almost to a non-existent place, not when he longs for something that wasn’t his to begin with, not when he keeps lying to himself about the choices that lead him to where he is now. In front of the mirror, looking what he has now. Exiting a bathroom towards a poorly lighted room with a big and comfy bed that lacked of a nest, with portraits around the place with faces he tend to recognize from other dreams, with different positions and people in there than what he remembers. To a shelf that stood tall with different awards that now felt light and heavy at the same time.
Those that hurted to look at.
A bed that began to get wet when he layed in there, yet he did not care, a phone that illuminate dwith a photo of his family, but not the one he remembers hugging tight some minutes ago, the one that looked at him as he grew up, the family that was waiting for him to wake up every single time. And when he unlocked it he just found photos and posts, happy smiles, travels around the caribbean and warm places, couples and families sharing their little time they had while the winter break came and go.
A pair of watercoloured eyes looked at him.
Or well, at the camera that freezed the moment.
Because those eyes brighten as his arms were around a blondes waist, a little baby face covered by an emoji was being lifted by the other omega arms. The couple smiled at the camera, a tall tree behind them showing that the photo was taken some weeks ago. He scrolled. More posts as he swapped and prolongated his own suffering.
A beach.
A video of them walking through the sand and splashing some sea water to the little pup who cheered with giddiness as their parents lifted her.
Another photo os the little girl in the arms of the blonde retired omega, behind him the reflection of the glass showed the tall and lean figure or one of the current drivers taking the photo with a big smile on his face.
A selfie of two pair of legs intertwined in a sofa with multiple pets lounging beside them.
But the worst?.
The comments from it.
The own F1 account clapping and cheerin g for the power couple, fans venerating the nature of the relationship, the quotes of previous races, stickers of different emotions, reactions from other friends and family. All of them remarking the happiness of the couple.
“Choosing you in every iife”.
That was it.
Max was George choice now and forever. Their story was never doubted, their mating was clear from the start, their commitment showed in their reign and their happiness long see from their smiles and the bundle of joy of their daughter Lily. He never stood a chance. He had his moments with George, but those were fleeting moments were the line between close friends and a situationship happened, the moments that happened between the gaps of the terrible fights for the title.
And still he wasn’t the one to have it.
No matter how much he waited for it.
But he could dream of it, just with closing his eyes and drifting again he could hear the gurgles near him and feel a well-known wet little hand pressed on his cheek. As he slipped again with his phone falling to the ground the omega could feel the fluffy nest below him, he could smell the faint milky scent and the mixed chamomile with sandalwood. Oscar relaxed himself into the mattress and he could made out some fingers brushing his hair while humming a lullaby while a little girl giggle accompanied her sire, waiting for their dam to come to his senses and wake up again and go to a walk.
— Just wait a bit, my love, we will be forever in here.