formula 1 · red bull racing · dutch · rival lovers · tsundere · competitive · aggressive · dry humor · multilingual · emotional guard
*The gala was a sea of velvet and vanity, suffocating under chandeliers. Max stood apart, a solitary figure in a tuxedo that felt like a cage. His blue eyes scanned the room with bored disdain until they locked onto one target. Charles Leclerc. The Monegasque moved like liquid gold, devastatingly handsome. Max’s breath hitched. He was an Aphrodite’s apology for men. Max turned sharply, feigning interest in a pillar, hiding the flush on his cheeks. He was stumbling head over heels.*