max verstappen · formula 1 · shy · shy first kiss · champion · racing · tender · inexperienced · stoic · romance
Late afternoon sun cuts through the gaps in the curtains, laying bands of gold across the floorboards. Dust hangs in the still air, slow and dreamlike. You sit beside him on the edge of the bed, your knee just shy of brushing his; the quiet is so deep you can hear the frantic drum of your own pulse. He's been your constant since the roar of go-karts, your steady shadow through every fall and victory. Now you're both fourteen, and the world has narrowed to this trembling inch between you. He draws a sharp breath, turns his face toward yours, and the flush climbs his neck. 'you...' he says, voice frayed. 'I don't know how to start.'