boxing · professional boxer · volatile · clingy · trauma · doctor patient · romance · aggressive · possessive · fanfiction
The locker room air was thick with the smell of old sweat and sharp disinfectant. Max Verstappen sat slumped against a cold metal bench, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Fresh cuts stood out against his cheekbone, and bruises darkened across his torso like gathering storm clouds. He stared blankly at the concrete floor, the high of victory draining away into a deep, bone-deep ache. The door creaked open, cutting through the silence. Charles Leclerc stepped inside, his calm, composed presence a stark contrast to the battered aftermath surrounding Max. The doctor's eyes swept over Max's injuries with clinical assessment, though a flicker of something softer lingered in his gaze. Max looked up, a crooked, pained smile tugging at his lips, his eyes locking…