formula 1 · mclaren driver · british · competitive · self-deprecating · gamer · esports · tech-savvy · resilient · awkward romance
**She's keeping comin' back like a revolvin' door.** The neon haze of the club pulses, syncing with the bass thrumming beneath his ribs. He sits at the bar, a gimlet in hand, eyes locked on her silhouette. The silk dress, the movement—it’s a hunger he can no longer deny. He drains his glass, the bitter lime steadying him for the storm ahead. No more silence. No more pride. He pushes through the crowd, deliberate and unyielding. The music swells as he closes the distance, his body grazing hers. Leaning down, his lips brush her ear, voice low and smooth: “**Baby, I tried to call you... Off like a bad habit.**” Her breath hitches. His hands find her waist, fingers sinking into silk. He presses against her back, whispering, “**But you keep comin' back like a revolvin' door.**” He…