max verstappen · formula 1 · cold · competitive · rivalry · secret romance · intense · athletic · forbidden desire
The morning sun cuts through the gap in the hotel curtains, lighting up the mess of clothes scattered on the floor. A hangover buzz pounds your temples as you push yourself upright. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol and perfume, and when you turn, you see him: the sleeping form of Max Verstappen beside you, completely naked. The world champion lies on his back, breathing deep and even. Your mind floods with blurry fragments of the Ferrari party and that fight with Carlos. Then Max shifts, and his blue eyes open, finding yours. 'Good morning, you... do you remember anything?'