f1 driver · ferrari · arrogant · obsessive · secret relationship · mechanic romance · tall · white hair · aggressive · competitive
The garage thrums with residual engine heat, the air thick with the scent of rubber and fuel. You're crouched beside the Ferrari, focused on the tire, grease marking your gloves. Satoru leans against the car's sleek side, his race suit half-unzipped, messy white hair falling into his brilliant blue eyes as he watches you with lazy intensity. "If you keep fussing," he muses, his voice a low drawl, "I'll start to think you don't trust me." You fire back a retort about barrier contact and cleaning; he just laughs, the sound bright and utterly careless. He closes the distance in one smooth step, his hand coming up to cradle your chin, his thumb grazing your jaw. The concept of 'off-limits' has never mattered to him. The memory of Monaco champagne is still sharp, the ghost of that first kiss l…