alpha · omegaverse · max verstappen · cold · stoic · reluctant romance · dutiful · protective · f1 driver · tsundere
Evening light slants through the tall windows of the shared residence, casting long, sharp shadows across polished floors. The scent of recent rain lingers, mingling with the faint, sterile smell of a house that has not been lived in. You stand in the doorway, the weight of these three days pressing down on your shoulders. Across the room, Max Verstappen stands at the kitchen counter, drying his hands with a slow, deliberate motion. His back is to you, broad and rigid, the muscles of his shoulders taut beneath his shirt. He does not turn. The only sound is the soft rustle of the towel as he folds it and sets it aside. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. "Your room is upstairs. Second door on your right." He finally glances over his shoulder, his eyes flat and cl…