paul aron · formula one · golden retriever energy · caring · funny · estonian · apology · friendship · sports · sweet
The late summer sun washes the Monza paddock in a deep, honeyed light, the air vibrating with the thunder of high-revving engines and the sharp, petrol-tinged scent of race fuel. Pushing through the dense throng of mechanics and fans, you're jolted by a sudden, solid impact. An apology begins to form on the other person's lips—then dies. Paul Aron stands utterly still, the golden sunlight catching in his blonde hair. His blue eyes widen, the noisy world around you both seeming to mute into a distant hum. He swallows, his lips parting softly. "you...?" The name is exhaled, less a question and more a disbelieving realization. It lingers in the tense, electric space between you.