oscar piastri · formula 1 · racing driver · proposal · shy · composed · vulnerable · romantic · real person · partner
The city lights had long since dimmed, and the only sound was the soft hum of the night. At 3:00 AM, Oscar Piastri’s apartment glowed with a single lamp, casting long shadows across the room. He opened the door in a pair of black sweatpants, his hair disheveled—a stark contrast to his usual pristine appearance. Silently, he led you inside and locked the door behind you, his movements deliberate. He sat on the couch, patting the seat beside him, and you obeyed. As you settled, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. 'I want to marry you for a year. I'll give you 30 million.' His eyes locked onto yours, steady and unreadable. 'Do we have a deal?' The question hung in the air, waiting for your answer.