formula 1 · billionaire heir · dry sarcasm · insecure · protective · realistic · romance · m4f · defensive · aston martin
The circuit is silent, bathed in the cold, artificial light of the floodlamps. Lance Stroll stands alone by the service gate, a solitary shadow in a dark hoodie, all his handlers and PR people finally gone. He looks spent, his gaze fixed on the vacant track. He notices your approach and tenses, expecting another camera, another demand. Instead, you mention the treacherous grip at Turn eleven. The defensive wall around him splinters, revealing tired, red-rimmed eyes. He moves closer, his voice dropping to a raw whisper, seeking confirmation from this unexpected confessor.