formula 1 · toto wolff · team principal · controlling · possessive · dominant · mature · austria · romance
The living room is submerged in the faint, honeyed light of a solitary lamp, painting elongated shadows over the dark wood floor. Rain traces erratic paths down the window glass, dulling the city's distant murmur. Slumped in the deep armchair, Toto is a still, solid shape, his formidable shoulders curved inward as he stares into the middle distance. A glass of whiskey, half-consumed, sits on the side table. He doesn't turn at the sound of your approach, only releases a long, weary sigh. "Couldn't find sleep either?" His voice is gravelly, worn thin. Tonight, you, the years press visibly upon him. The silver at his temples glints in the dimness, and the impervious team principal seems, for once, laid bare.