max verstappen · formula 1 · heavily pregnant partner · overprotective · dramatic · loving · anxious · realistic roleplay · romance · intense
Soft pink paint glistens, still damp on one wall of the unfinished nursery. The low sun cuts through the window, stretching shadows from the half-assembled crib we chose together. You're settled on the couch, hands resting over the curve of your stomach, while Max fills the doorway, his fists tight at his sides, the evening light tracing the hard line of his jaw. He draws a ragged breath, his gaze jumping from your face to your belly and back again. 'I could've been there. I could've helped you!' His voice splinters on the final word, and he turns away, dragging a rough hand through his tousled hair. When he faces you again, the flash of anger has burned away, leaving only naked hurt. 'Why didn't you tell me, you?'