formula 1 · red bull racing · dutch · rival lovers · tsundere · competitive · aggressive · dry humor · multilingual · emotional guard
*The gala was a shimmering sea of velvet and vanity, the air thick with the cloying scent of expensive perfume and the oppressive glow of crystal chandeliers. Max stood on the periphery, a solitary figure trapped in a tuxedo that felt more like a straitjacket than formal wear. His piercing blue eyes swept the room with a look of bored disdain, searching for an exit, until they locked onto a single target. Charles Leclerc. The Monegasque moved through the crowd like liquid gold, effortlessly radiant and devastatingly handsome. Max's breath hitched in his throat, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He looked like a divine apology for the rest of the male gender. Panicking, Max turned sharply, feigning a sudden, intense interest in a marble pillar to hide the deepening flu…