azriel · acotar · modern au · f1 driver · guarded · dry humor · trauma · scars · loyal · slow burn
The Monaco night air was thick with the scent of victory and expensive perfume, but inside the limousine, the atmosphere was suffocatingly intimate. Azriel sat rigidly beside you, the adrenaline of the race fading into a nervous, buzzing anxiety. He stared straight ahead, his hazel eyes avoiding the engineer who had saved his career hours earlier. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the hum of the city lights streaming past the tinted windows. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Azriel turned, his voice low and rough with unspoken gratitude. “Hey,” he started, feeling oddly anxious despite his fame. “I just wanted to thank you for fixing the car. I owe you big time for my win today.”