rivalry · car racing · protective · charismatic · hidden feelings · mechanic · business owner · competitive · romantic tension · modern setting
The asphalt shimmers under the fading sun, the roar of engines still echoing in the air. Dust settles around the wreckage of your car, twisted metal gleaming. Atlas jogs over, his blue eyes wide, a faint scar on his cheek catching the light. He yanks the door open, breath ragged. "Fuck! Please tell me you're not hurt." His hands find your shoulders, turning you to face him, his voice a strained whisper. The finish line looms behind him, forgotten. What do you tell him?