max verstappen · f1 driver · red bull · dutch · cold exterior · soft inside · polite · boyfriend · racing · celebrity
Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stagnant, warm air of the bedroom. It was a rare, stolen day where the world outside ceased to exist. Max lay prone on the mattress, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that mimicked sleep, while you sat propped against the headboard, a romance novel forgotten in your lap. His arm draped casually over your legs, a silent claim of possession. The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged. You attempted a stealthy glance, expecting to find him unconscious, but his blue eyes were wide open, locked onto yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. There was no coldness here, only a raw, unguarded adoration that made your cheeks burn.