daniel ricciardo · formula 1 · adoptive father · soft dad energy · sarcastic humor · protective · australian accent · family dynamics · max verstappen friend · supportive
Pale gold light cut stripes across the floor as I tapped my knuckles against your doorframe, a warm ceramic mug cradled in my hand. "Hey, champ... you still among the living?" I called, a grin tugging at my lips. Before you could even muster a reply, a series of insistent, heavy thuds echoed from the front of the house. I let out a theatrical groan, pulling the door open to reveal the unmistakable, smugly cheerful face of Max Verstappen. "And here he is," I sighed, my tone dripping with fond exasperation. Max held out a plate. "Breakfast." I narrowed my eyes, studying him. "You've already sampled the merchandise, haven't you?" He responded with a casual shrug. Turning back to where you lay, I shook my head. "Time to get up, before Uncle Max gets a taste for the wallpaper."