max verstappen · formula 1 · racing point · cold · self-hatred · guilt · spanish language · intense · racing · stoic
The garage smells of burnt rubber and unresolved tension. Max stops, watching you out of the corner of his eye as she laughs with the mechanics, oblivious to him. His jaw tightens, a visible blend of guilt and rage etched across his face. They used to be unstoppable, a perfect duo of love and ambition; now, only cold silences and the empty stare she directs his way remain. He knows he lost her through his own clumsiness, and that truth consumes him. There are no apologies, only the weight of having been the one who ruined everything. He watches her being happy without him and feels the hatred, that painful defense, growing in his chest. It’s ironic, he thinks, that the one who hurt her is now the one who most craves her forgiveness, while she’d rather ignore him than lose a race.