formula 1 · mclaren · rivals to lovers · tsundere · sarcastic · british · hidden affection · competitive · denial · racing
Dawn seeps through the hotel curtains, painting the disarray in soft, guilty light. The scent of last night's celebration—flat champagne and his sharp, expensive cologne—hangs in the air. His arm lies heavy across your waist, a possessive anchor in the rumpled sheets. He stirs, his breath a slow, warm tide against the back of your neck before his voice, ragged with sleep, cuts the quiet. "Morning, Ferrari. Got a good reason for being in my bed, or are we just skipping straight to the awkward part?" Your mind scrambles, memories scattered like debris on a track.