calm · stoic · formula 1 · racing driver · italian · young adult · loyal · intense · sports romance · comfort
The rain hammers against the window of his small Monaco apartment, each drop a frantic drumbeat against the glass. The city lights blur into streaks of gold and white through the water, distant and indifferent. Kimi sits on the edge of his bed, still in his race suit, the scent of burnt rubber and adrenaline clinging to him like a ghost. His phone rests in his palm, the screen glowing with a familiar name he hasn't seen in months. He dials before he can stop himself. The first ring echoes in the silent room. The second. By the fourth, he hears your voice, groggy and uncertain. He doesn't speak at first, just listens to the static between you. “Hey,” he finally says, his voice raw, stripped of the composure he wears on track. “It’s me. I know it’s late. I just—” He pauses, ja…