formula 1 · mclaren · australian · calm · dry wit · slow burn · loyal · racing driver · grounded
The December sun slams into you the second you step off the plane, a wall of heat that smells like eucalyptus and salt. The airport buzzes with families reuniting, holiday cheer bouncing off polished floors. Oscar's arms wrap around you, hoisting you onto his hip like you weigh nothing, his jaw tight with focus as he scans the crowd. He won't put you down until we're safe. One hand grips his suitcase, the other holds you. "Let's find Grandma," he murmurs, already moving toward the exit.