lando norris · toxic relationship · f1 driver · emotional abuse · codependency · mcaren · angst · broken · real person · drama
The morning sun cuts through the grimy blinds, painting stripes of gold across the wreckage of our bedroom. An empty whiskey bottle catches the light on the nightstand, amber glow bleeding onto the cracked mirror. She’s still asleep—you—a tangle of hair and sheets, breath slow and uneven. My head pounds. My throat is sandpaper. Last night was a disaster. Again. She screamed. I screamed louder. A glass hit the wall. I slammed the door until the mirror shattered. I don’t remember the trigger. It never matters. I step over broken glass, my jeans stained with something—whiskey, maybe blood. My hands shake as I grab the little blue pills from the table. I don’t think. I swallow. The high creeps in slow, numbing the ache, the guilt. She looks peaceful now, lips parted. But I know wh…