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eu-nicola · 24 days ago

Text

the finish line part 1

sinopsis: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: love triangle, forbidden relationship, tension, infidelity

word counter: 5687

author's note: english is not my first language

The roar of the engines filled the air with an electric energy. The sky above the circuit was clear, cloudless, as if nature itself had decided that the competition would be without interference. The stands were shaking with excitement, and you were there, in the VIP area, your heart beating faster than usual. You saw Lando’s car on the starting grid, and despite having seen him compete so many times, each race gave you the same adrenaline. You loved Lando and supported his career without reservation, feeling a sincere pride every time he put on his helmet and immersed himself in his element, as if his whole life was leading up to that moment.

However, as you watched the drivers take their positions, your eyes were not fixed only on Lando’s car. Among the rows of single-seaters, one stood out in a way that made your heart waver, even though you did not want to admit it. Max Verstappen’s car. There was something about his presence that was imposing. Max moved with the confidence and precision of someone who had been born for this place, as if the asphalt was his home and the engines were his heartbeat.

Max and Lando were rivals. Their competition went far beyond the track, it was a battle of talents and personalities that pushed them to their limits. But, secretly, you had always felt a fascination towards Max that was difficult to ignore. Before meeting Lando, before feeling his hand take yours in those early days full of laughter and adventure, you had followed Max as a silent admirer, watching his rise in Formula 1 from a distance, mesmerized by his almost supernatural skill behind the wheel.

Your admiration had begun years ago, when you were still an anonymous spectator and Formula 1 was just a hobby. There was something special about the way Max approached races, a kind of intensity that separated him from the others. You remembered perfectly the first time you saw him win: that mix of strength and precision, an almost brutal will that made him get what he wanted. He was a predator on the track, and you, without being able to explain it to yourself, had become trapped in his world.

Since then, you had grown accustomed to watching him race, to secretly getting excited every time he crossed the finish line in first place. You had never told anyone about that part of you, least of all Lando. You loved your boyfriend and you loved watching him win, watching yourself celebrating beside him. However, you couldn't help a spark of excitement every time Max put his hands on the wheel and prepared for a race.

Today was one of those days when the two of you would face each other again, and the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of Max, preparing himself alongside his team. You forced yourself to look away, turning your attention back to Lando. You didn't want that secret admiration to show in your eyes. You knew Lando was aware of the competition with Max, and he probably wouldn't like to know that his girlfriend had an almost devout respect for his biggest rival.

The race began, and you held your breath. Every lap was a rollercoaster of emotions. Lando was going well, fighting to maintain his position while Max pushed for the lead. It was an impressive battle, a dangerous dance between two drivers who knew that any mistake could cost them dearly. Lando had the advantage, but Max was getting closer, closing the gap at every turn, as if he could read his rival's mind and anticipate his moves.

On the last lap, you almost stopped breathing. The two were neck and neck, and for a moment you found yourself wishing that Max could catch up, that he could prove once again why he was considered one of the best. Excitement washed over you, and at the same time, you felt a pang of guilt. You wanted Lando to win, of course, but there was something about the fight, about the possibility that Max could snatch the top spot from him, that made you hold your breath.

The deafening roar of the engines enveloped you as they crossed the finish line. Max had won. You stayed silent, knowing Lando wouldn't be happy with the outcome, but deep inside you, a part of you felt inexplicably satisfied.

The victory celebration filled the air, but in Lando's box, the atmosphere was completely different. Frustration was palpable in each of his movements, and you watched him from a corner, trying to gauge whether your support would be well received at that moment.

"It was crazy, wasn't it?" you commented with a smile, trying to ease the tension when he approached.

Lando barely responded, pressing his lips together and muttering something you couldn't understand. He used to be competitive, but at times like this, when the defeat came from Max, the comments that came out of his mouth surprised you a little.

"That guy..." he began to say, and you could hear the resentment in his voice. "He always plays on the edge, as if no one else mattered on the track. It's like he's racing alone, and the rest of us are just there for show."

You tried to smile to lighten the mood, but deep down it hurt you a little to hear him talk like that. You wanted to be Lando’s unconditional support, but deep down you couldn’t help but feel that there was something admirable about Max’s confidence and boldness that so exasperated his boyfriend.

“It’s true that it’s risky,” you conceded softly, without trying to justify anything. “But maybe that’s one of the reasons why he’s so fast.”

Lando looked at you, surprised, although clearly annoyed, and you couldn’t help but feel that he had picked up on something in your tone. You looked away before he could read too much into your expression.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be out there, competing at that level, risking your life at every turn,” he said in a harsher tone than usual. Lando rarely acted like that with you, and you knew it was frustration speaking.

You decided it was best to give him a moment’s space. You approached the edge of the track area, watching the celebrations from a distance, trying not to let Lando’s comments affect your own perspective. You knew he was angry and that his words were born from the helplessness of the moment.

Max had had an impeccable race, he had taken risks at every turn and had shown, once again, why he was the best on the track. The competitive fire that sometimes made him impulsive was also what made his talent shine the way it did.

Suddenly, you noticed that Lando had approached, still frowning, but his eyes showed a silent apology. He was aware of what you felt and, although he hadn't said anything to you, you knew that he had understood that Max, on some level, was also someone you admired.

"I'm sorry about what I said before," he finally said, with a sigh. "It's just that it's hard for me. It's not his talent, it's..." Lando paused, and looked at the track with a mixture of resentment and resignation. "It's just luck."

You looked at him with a slight smile and took his hand, trying to offer him the security he needed at that moment. Lando needed someone to support him, and you were there for that.

“It’s just one more race,” you said, squeezing his hand. “And there will be many more where you’ll be the one celebrating.”

Lando smiled back at you, albeit with a hint of sadness, and you noticed that, at least for now, he was willing to put the tensions aside.

That same night, the atmosphere at the hotel where the drivers and their teams were staying was a mix of celebration and relaxation after the stress of the race. The after-party was a tradition in Las Vegas. You knew Lando wasn’t completely thrilled with the idea, considering how the race had ended.

The two of you returned to the hotel after the awards ceremony, and went up to your room in silence. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before entering the bathroom, and you took the opportunity to start getting ready.

Opening your suitcase, you looked for the dress you had chosen for the night: an elegant design, in a deep red tone. You put it on carefully, letting the soft material slide over your body. In front of the mirror, you began fixing your hair, opting for a loose yet sophisticated style, striking enough for the occasion without being over the top.

From across the room, you heard Lando exit the bathroom. You turned to look at him, finding him dressed in a dark blue shirt that brought out the color of his eyes, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, and dark pants. It was the kind of style he liked, relaxed but carefully put together, with a touch that kept his air youthful. He looked good, as always, but this time there was something about his posture, a tension that hadn’t quite faded yet.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling slightly as he watched you.

“Almost,” you said, putting the finishing touches on your makeup and adding long earrings that hung elegantly from your ears. “You’re ready too, right?”

He nodded, approaching you with a leisurely pace and standing behind you in front of the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist. You could see his eyes in the reflection, watching you, and for a moment at least, he seemed to relax.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Even though the tension from the race was still there, his words managed to bring a smile to your face.

“Thank you, love. And you look… like always,” he replied, joking softly, and you both laughed.

The walk to the party was quiet, and as they arrived, music began to play from the hotel lobby. The party was in full swing, and as soon as they entered, the festive atmosphere enveloped them: colorful lights, the pulsating music, and the murmur of voices from the drivers, mechanics, and other guests filled the place. Champagne glasses were circulating around the room, and some of the drivers were already in the center, laughing and joking as they exchanged anecdotes from the race.

Lando took you by the hand as they walked together toward the group of his friends and teammates, who greeted them with a cheer and friendly banter. He laughed and let himself go, and although it was still clear that the day had been a difficult one for him, it seemed like the company helped him relax.

But then, unintentionally, your eyes drifted to a corner of the room, where Max was talking to some of his team members, a drink in his hand and a relaxed smile on his face. He was wearing a simple but well-fitting black shirt, his hair disheveled after an action-packed day. Watching him laugh, you noticed something you had rarely seen: an almost carefree warmth, a version of him that only emerged when he was away from the pressure of the race.

You tried to look away, but your curiosity was stronger, and your eyes found him again from time to time, as if a part of you couldn't help it. Every so often, he seemed to catch your gaze, giving you a slight smile before returning to his conversation.

Lando, oblivious to the tension, continued chatting with his companions, and you tried to focus on the moment, ignoring the persistent feeling that someone else was watching you from the other side of the room. The music and laughter continued, the noise creating a kind of bubble in which you could hide, but even so, you felt trapped in that mix of emotions.

Suddenly, Max said goodbye to those around him and began to walk towards the center of the room, passing close to you. His gaze passed over the group and stopped on you. It was a fleeting moment, but enough for the heat to rise to your cheeks.

You tried to hide it, focusing on the conversation Lando was having, although your mind wandered between the pride of being by his side and the unexpected fascination that Max managed to awaken in you every time you saw him.

The night progressed, and little by little, both you and Lando were integrated into the party separately. He joined his friends, and soon you found yourself sharing laughs with some of your friends. You sipped from your glass, letting yourself be carried away by the warmth of the alcohol, which was starting to make the music louder, the lights brighter, and the atmosphere more welcoming.

Yet, throughout the night, you couldn't help it: every now and then your eyes would wander away, searching for that familiar, dangerous look you'd caught earlier. Max wasn't that far away, and on several occasions his blue eyes met yours, each exchange of glances a little longer than the last.

He did nothing but look at you, but every time he did, a smile would appear on his lips. It was an almost mocking gesture, as if he was aware of the tension he was creating and was having fun with it. The intensity of his gaze seemed to go beyond simple curiosity, and you felt your cheeks heat up with each fleeting encounter. However, you tried to hide it, devoting yourself to your friends, to the laughter and the anecdotes of the night.

Until, at some point, you realized that Max was no longer in the room. You looked around, wanting to find out if he had wandered off or was simply in another conversation, but his figure was nowhere to be seen among the lights or the laughter of the scattered groups. You felt a slight pang of disappointment, though you didn't want to give it too much importance. Plus, you had Lando at this very party; the only one you should really care about was here, having fun with his friends.

So, determined to ignore the slight discouragement, you had another drink, joining in the vibrant energy of the party, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions of the week. But the alcohol was taking its toll, and after a while, you felt the need to freshen up and, above all, find the bathroom. You said goodbye to your friends momentarily and began walking towards the hallway that led to the bathrooms, moving away from the music and the bustle.

The hallway was dimly lit, with an air of calm that contrasted with the festive chaos of the main room. As you moved forward, you felt the atmosphere grow quieter, the echoes of the music just a distant murmur. You turned the corner towards the bathroom, only to stop dead when you suddenly saw him.

Max was there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on you. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, that he was simply waiting for someone or taking a breather. But when his lips curved into a slow, almost mischievous smile, you knew he was there for you.

“Lost?” he asked, his voice deep and heavy with irony, but also with something else, something that made your chest turn.

“No… I was just looking for the bathroom,” you answered, trying to keep your composure, although you felt the air had become a little thicker, more charged between the two of you.

He nodded, that relaxed, confident expression that never seemed to leave him, and took a step towards you, closing the distance in a way that made you feel a rush of nerves and excitement.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked softly, not taking his gaze away from yours. His tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel like there was a deeper intention behind each word.

“Yeah…” you replied, swallowing hard, as you realized you were staring at his lips. You looked away quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “It’s… fun.”

Max laughed, a low, warm sound that echoed through the hallway. He noticed your gaze as well, and instead of making any comment, he simply moved a little closer. You could feel the warmth of his presence, and the faint scent of his lotion mixed with the soft touch of alcohol that enveloped him. His closeness was intoxicating.

“You know?” “I’ve been watching you all night,” he said, with a frankness that took you by surprise. He didn’t bother to disguise the truth, and the impact of his words made your neck tingle. “I think you’ve been looking for me too.”

You tried to answer, but the words caught in your throat. Max was so close that you could notice every detail of his face, the tones in his eyes and the slight smile that lingered on his lips. You knew you should back off, that the situation was going too far, but there was something about him that drew you in, like a magnetic force impossible to ignore.

“Max…” you whispered, not sure what else to say. It was all a jumble of emotions: the confusion, the attraction, the guilt you felt in some corner of your mind for being here, in this moment with him.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said softly, but his tone was serious, beyond the amusement he had shown before. His gaze was intense, sincere, and you felt the world stop at that moment. It was as if he were giving you a choice, an open door to decide.

The silence between you was thick and heavy. Around you, the party continued, distant, an echo of laughter and music, but at this moment there was only him, and the decision you had to make.

The hallway was silent, almost as if the party had vanished and only the two of you remained, trapped in that suspended moment. His proximity made the air seem heavier, charged with something you could no longer ignore. You knew you should move away, that crossing that line could have consequences, but at that moment all rational thought was fading, consumed by the intensity of his presence and the intoxicating effect of the alcohol.

Max looked at you with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. You felt his gaze running over you as if he could read every doubt, every hidden thought you refused to admit. He didn't move, but he didn't back down either. It was as if he was waiting for you to decide, giving you all the control and, at the same time, all the weight of that choice.

Finally, unable to contain yourself any longer, you took a step towards him. It was barely a fraction of a distance, but it was enough to make you feel even closer. You noticed how his expression changed, his subtle smile turning into a satisfied smirk. Max raised a hand and gently slid it over your arm, his touch light, barely a brush that sent a shiver down the length of your spine.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper that echoed in the hallway.

Without saying anything else, he looked at you with that mix of confidence and sweetness that made your defenses crumble. With a dangerous calm, Max leaned towards you, until his lips barely touched yours. It was a brief contact, barely a brush, as if he was giving you one last chance to stop him. But you didn't.

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the small distance between you and kissed him, letting all the pent-up tension fade away in that instant. His hand moved up to your cheek, holding you firmly as the kiss deepened. His mouth was warm, safe, and you felt like the whole world was disappearing with each passing second, until there was nothing left but him.

Max gently pushed you against the wall, his hands moving down your arms, your sides, until they were on your waist, holding you with the same firmness he used to control his car on the track. He kissed you with an intensity that made you lose your breath, and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, letting yourself go without hesitation.

Everything about him drew you in an inescapable way. His scent, his restrained strength, his control, and the way he seemed to read your thoughts without you saying a word. You felt like time was slipping away, and at the same time, every second was eternal, every movement of his etching itself into your memory, into your skin.

When he pulled away for just a moment to look at you, his eyes shone with a mix of desire and a hint of satisfaction. He knew you had fallen, that you had crossed that line, and he didn't seem to regret it in the slightest. His lips were so close you could feel his breath, and before you could say a word, he smiled and kissed you again, even more intensely than before.

Every time his lips moved over yours, you lost yourself more in the sensation, in the danger and the attraction. Rationality, guilt, everything seemed far away, insignificant compared to the need to feel it, to let yourself go to that moment that you had secretly desired and that was now real, tangible, in his arms.

Without realizing it, your hands went down his chest, feeling the strength of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt, and he let out a soft moan that made you shudder. Max was a sea of intensities and contrasts, and, having him so close, you knew there was no turning back.

After a last kiss full of desire, both of you separated, aware that you could not disappear for long without raising suspicions. Max looked at you with a satisfied and complicit expression. He ran his hand over your face, giving you a look that was both comforting and challenging, a silent promise that this did not end here. But now both of you had to go back.

With a brief smile and no further words, he stepped away, turning down the hall as if nothing had happened. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, his figure melting back into the hustle and bustle of the party. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to regain control of your emotions and erase any hint of what had just happened. You couldn't let anyone notice, much less Lando.

You walked back into the living room with measured steps, trying to relax, even though your heart was pounding. Your hands were shaking slightly, and you struggled to remember how to keep a neutral expression. The music, the lights, the laughter around you seemed to echo the intensity of your encounter with Max, and with each passing second you wondered if anyone suspected something, if it could be seen in your gaze, in the way you moved.

In the distance, you saw Lando laughing with some friends, completely oblivious to what had just happened in the hallway. When you met him, he gave you an effusive hug, and you tried to respond with the same naturalness, as if nothing had changed, as if your heart wasn't still beating with the memory of Max.

"Where have you been?" Lando asked you, without suspecting anything, looking at you with that familiarity that you had always felt. His smile was warm, an anchor that made you feel on the verge of guilt.

"Oh, I went to the bathroom, and then I saw the girls and we stayed talking for a while," you lied, forcing a smile as you tried to push away any thoughts of what had happened moments ago.

You nodded as Lando offered you another drink, and forced yourself to smile and laugh with him, even though your mind was elsewhere.

As Lando spoke to you, you nodded, trying to focus on each word.

In the distance, once again, you caught sight of Max's figure in the crowd. He looked at you again, this time with a much more subtle, discreet expression. No one else seemed to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, but you knew he was there, watching you, a constant reminder of what had happened and what could happen again.

As the party continued, you forced yourself to stay by Lando's side, sharing laughs and enjoying the night at his side. But deep down, a part of you had already changed.

When the night finally began to fade and tiredness weighed on you, you and Lando decided to head back to the hotel. You walked beside him, silently, enjoying the cool early morning air that tried to dissipate the heat and bustle of the party. Lando, exhausted but content, took your hand and smiled at you before looking out at the street, distracted and sleepy. You clung to that moment of peace with him.

It wasn't long before your phone vibrated in your bag. At first, you didn't pay much attention, thinking it would be one of your friends or just some unimportant notification. However, upon hearing the sound for the second and third time, your curiosity got the better of you and you surreptitiously pulled out your phone, taking advantage of the fact that Lando was busy checking something on his own phone.

The screen lit up with a name that made your heart skip a beat: Max Verstappen. Your pulse instantly quickened, and you glanced at Lando out of the corner of your eye, making sure he was still distracted. You tried to stay calm, but each new vibration of the phone seemed to intensify your nervousness.

"How did he get your number?" you wondered, incredulous. Maybe he had gotten it through some acquaintance, some mutual contact. But instead of worrying you, that initiative on his part made a shiver of excitement and fear run through you.

You read the first message quickly, your heart beating so hard it seemed to echo in the stillness of the early morning.

Max: “Do you regret what happened tonight?"

You kept your eyes on the screen, noticing the confident expression his words inspired in you, knowing he knew the answer well.

With your thumb shaking, you scrolled to the next message:

Max: "I hope not, because I don't plan on forgetting it that easily."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the mix of emotions that was overwhelming you. You knew it was a delicate situation, but the adrenaline you felt from those messages made it impossible for you to turn away from that conversation. Lando, oblivious to what was happening, smiled at you and put an arm around your shoulder, hugging you as you walked towards the hotel entrance. You tried hard to smile back, trying to erase any hint of nervousness.

However, as soon as you entered the elevator, your phone vibrated again. Max seemed to have no intention of waiting for a response, and the next message was even more direct:

Max: "If you decide to go out again, I'll be awake."

The short sentence caused your cheeks to heat up. You stared at the message for a few seconds, as the elevator rose and you struggled to keep a neutral expression. You didn’t want Lando to suspect anything, but it was impossible not to feel the urge to respond.

Finally, when they reached the door of the room and Lando dropped his things, exclaiming with an exhausted sigh, you took advantage of that moment to type a quick and short response, trying to control the emotion that was overwhelming you.

You: “I don’t plan on forgetting this night either.”

You put your phone on silent and joined Lando, trying to focus on him and the routine of the night.

Even though you had silenced the notifications, your mind kept going back to Max’s messages. You knew it would be best to ignore him and not let yourself get dragged further into what had already happened that night, but the temptation to check each of his messages was too strong. Lando slept soundly beside you, the exhaustion of the race and the party having overcome him in no time, while you tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.

The early morning was advancing, and every second in the dimness of the room only made the urge to check your phone more pressing. Finally, unable to resist it any longer, you carefully reached out and took the phone. You unlocked it, and immediately, several new messages from Max lit up the screen.

The first message was direct, almost as if he were daring you to respond:

Max: "Still awake?"

Seeing that simple question, your heart raced again, and in that moment you knew he was waiting, attentive, too.

You scrolled down to the next message, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Max: "I can't stop thinking about you tonight."

The intensity of his words made the room seem even quieter, like the whole world had stopped and the only thing that existed was the conversation they were having. Your finger lowered once more, and the last message was the one that left you speechless:

Max: “If you ever get tired of what you have… you know where to find me.”

You read those words over and over again, trying to process the weight of what Max was implying.

Without realizing it, a slight tremor took over your hand as you held the phone. You didn’t know how to respond, or if you should. You knew you couldn’t erase what had happened, and the memory of his lips, his touch, his gaze, all of it still burned your skin. Part of you wanted to respond, to let go, to explore that desire you had held onto for so long.

The temptation was impossible to ignore, and before you knew it, your fingers began typing, guided by a mix of excitement and the urge to find out how far this conversation could take you.

You: “Max, you know this shouldn’t be happening.”

Almost immediately, the three dots appeared on the screen, signaling that Max was typing. Your heart was racing as you waited for his response, nervous and expectant at the same time.

Max: “Really? Because I think it should happen. I think we’ve been ignoring it for too long.”

His words were confident.

You: “It’s crazy, Max. You know that.”

Max: “I know that. But tell me, do you really want to stop here?”

You read his message over and over, considering his question. You knew what he was hoping to hear, and a part of you wanted to too, even though your mind kept telling you it was dangerous, that you shouldn’t go any further. But the rational part of you was growing weaker in the face of Max's intensity and the night they'd shared.

After a few seconds, you decided to answer, taking a little more risk.

You: "I don't know if I want to stop, Max… But I don't know what this means either."

Max's response came almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting for that opening.

Max: "It means whatever you want it to mean. I'm not going to pressure you, but I think we both feel something more. Don't tell me you don't feel the same spark."

The directness of his words disarmed you. You had tried to ignore it, rationalize it, even suppress it. But now that he'd said it out loud, that he'd given that spark a name, it was impossible to deny the reality. It wasn't just a one-night stand; it was something you'd felt for him since before you met Lando, a kind of fascination and attraction that now seemed to have a life of its own.

You: "This isn't easy. You know I'm with Lando."

Max: “I know. I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. I just want you to know that I’ll be here, if you ever decide that this is worth it.”

His words echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to allow yourself to explore what he had to offer. You knew it was a line that, once crossed, there was no turning back. And yet, every message from Max made the barrier between reason and desire crumble a little more.

You: “It’s harder than you imagine.”

Max: “Maybe. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things that are truly worth it are rarely easy.”

You bit your lip, staring at his words and feeling a mix of intense emotions.

You: “So, what do we do now?”

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought maybe he wouldn’t respond. But then came his message, simple and direct.

Max: "For now, we're keeping this between us. There's no rush… But I'm not going to let this end here."

You fell silent, contemplating his words and feeling your heart race. You knew nothing would be the same after tonight.

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