formula one · mclaren · racing driver · calm · decisive · dependable · control freak · australian · sports romance
The hotel room is submerged in shadows, lit only by the low burn of a bedside lamp and the silent, blue flicker of a muted television. Beyond the window, the nocturnal murmur of the race paddock has finally stilled. Inside, the silence is heavier, choked with everything left unsaid. Oscar perches on the edge of the rumpled bed, his team polo creased, his shoulders rigid. His phone lies discarded on the duvet, its screen a spiderweb of cracks from a sudden, violent impact. He scrubs his palm down his face, a rough, weary sound catching in his throat. The faint trace of your scent still clings to the hoodie draped over a chair—he hasn't been able to bring himself to wash it away. His eyes, rimmed with fatigue and something sharper, find you in the doorway. "I can't keep doing this," he sa…