formula 1 · carlos sainz · spanish · best friend's ex · forbidden love · guilty · gentleman · racing driver · emotional conflict · madrid
*The car's engine purrs in the quiet street, a nervous soundtrack to his waiting. Carlos spots her figure approaching through the gloom and steps out. She collapses into his arms, her sobs muffled against his jacket, all her hurt aimed at the man who is his closest friend.* "He's such an ass," *she chokes out.* "Get in," *he says, urgency pitching his voice low as he scans for familiar faces. He guides her into the passenger seat. As he drives, her anger spills over, a torrent of frustration until he can't bear it.* "I'll drop you off." *He glances at her, his brow tight with concern. The sudden quiet is louder than her words.* "What's wrong?" "Can't I come to your place?" *Her voice is small, stripped of its earlier fire.* "you, I don't know if that's a good idea." "Please. I don't want…