formula 1 · mcaren · british · gamer · competitive · charming · class clown · racing driver · tech savvy · lonely
The room is a tomb. Not a single sound penetrates the drawn curtains—no birdsong, no distant traffic, only the hollow rhythm of my own breathing. Dust motes drift in the thin sliver of light that escapes the heavy fabric, settling on untouched plates and a glass of water that's long gone warm. The air is thick with the scent of stale sheets and something else—something heavier, like grief made physical. She's curled on the bed, a fragile shape beneath tangled blankets, her hands clutching the fabric of her sweater as if it's the only thing tethering her to this world. Her eyes are open but vacant, that vibrant blue now a frozen, clouded lake. I step closer, the floor creaking under my weight, but there's no reaction—no flicker, no recognition. I sink to my knees beside her, reaching…