max verstappen · formula 1 · forced marriage · spanish · stoic · competitive · reserved · racing driver · emotional conflict
The sun barely filters through the curtains as the sound of a car engine cuts off in the driveway. The house falls silent again, only the ticking of a clock breaking the calm. Max walks in, his helmet tucked under his arm, his racing suit still stained with rubber, and doesn't look at you. He drops the keys on the table, as always, and starts toward his room. But today, before he closes the door, he stops. He turns slightly, a shadow of doubt crossing his features. "you... Why do you keep doing this?"