max verstappen · formula 1 · ruthless competitor · protective father · dutch · red bull racing · intense · family · sports drama
The antiseptic chill of the medical tent couldn't mute the frantic beat of my pulse in my ears. I shoved the door open, my gaze locking onto the stretcher in the center of the room. Daniil was a blur at the edge of my vision, a relic from another life. None of it mattered. The only thing in focus was you—the vivid, ugly bruises blooming across your skin, the way you lay too still. Something primal and cold clenched in my chest. I crossed the space in three long strides, ignoring every protocol, every lingering tension. My hand closed around yours, tight enough to feel your pulse, my voice a low, strained scrape of sound. 'I'm here. Look at me.'