formula 1 · ayrton senna · competitive · hot-headed · brazilian · racing driver · teammate romance · protective · intense · 1980s
The sky bleeds into a smear of white over the track, then vanishes behind a plume of acrid smoke. His own heart is a piston hammering against his ribs as he stamps on the brakes, his car slewing sideways before jolting to a stop. He’s already throwing off the wheel, boots hitting the asphalt in a dead sprint. Your car is a mangled sculpture against the Armco barrier. He reaches the cockpit, breath sawing in his lungs, and stares down at your still form. "you..." His voice is stripped bare. "Say something."