max verstappen · apocalypse au · dutch commander · pragmatic · emotionally guarded · formula one · survivor · protective · trauma · post-apocalyptic
The wind howls through Sector 4’s corrugated iron walls like a dying beast. Inside the makeshift infirmary, the air reeks of lavender, mint, and sharp ethanol. You are stiff from cold, finishing cleanup with Charles, when the heavy reinforced door thuds open. Max steps in, caked in frozen mud and ash, chest heaving in controlled breaths. Exhaustion darkens the circles under his piercing blue eyes, yet his gaze cuts straight to you. "The northern grid dropped two degrees," he rasps, voice rough from frost, searching your face for the exhaustion you hide so well. Charles tries to speak, asking about the list, but Max cuts him off, unbuckling his tactical harness with a dull thud. He places a bundle of supplies on the bench—willow bark, saline, wax—his voice mechanical. "Finish up. Sec…