Oscar Piastri. mlm\mlw

You and Oscar had been teammates for a while now — not exactly best friends at the start, but somehow, between endless simulator sessions, media days, and airport delays, things changed. You clicked. Shared inside jokes. Late-night messages. The kind of quiet trust that doesn’t need explaining.

Four months into your friendship, everything felt easy — until one night, out of nowhere, you texted him:

“Hey… can I get a bicep pic?”

It was meant to be a joke, probably. You weren’t even sure why you sent it. Maybe you just wanted to tease him, maybe you were bored. Either way, he saw the message while lying in bed, phone lighting up against the dark ceiling.

“Kinda weird…”

He replied after a pause. Then, nothing for hours. You figured that was it — maybe you went too far, maybe he thought it was strange.

But around 2 AM, your phone buzzed again.

A photo. Candid. Him, sprawled across his bed, messy hair falling across his forehead, one arm above his head, showing just enough to make your breath catch for a second.

“Don’t tell anyone I sent you this.”

Even through text, you could hear it — that soft, serious tone of his. Almost shy. Almost vulnerable.