Montero - Toto Wolff

21: Love and Lust

[British Grand Prix, Sprint Race]

More than anything, this weekend's format was confusing.

Someone, probably Masi, had decided to wedge a 'sprint race' in and amongst the free practices of the weekend. It's final grid counted towards the Race set up - with Qualifying setting up the order that everyone would start the sprint in.

It made no sense, if you said that you'd be absolutely right on the mark, but the higher-ups seemed to love it, so you'd have to go along with it.

"Okay, Lewis, T-minus five minutes," Bono opened the air to let his driver know he should be ticking down the clock to the start of the sprint.

You couldn't even bare to watch, your eyes fixated on Toto's pinky finger as it inched towards yours like a frustratingly slow caterpillar. His skin sought out yours, begging for your touch whilst you sat between him and Bono.

[Toto]

I'm so overwhelmed with the hunger for more. More of her, more victories, more stolen kisses. More sex, more heart wrenching arguments. She rocks me to my core and leaves me feverish.

Without her I will never be full. I need more life, more time to spend with her.

If I could bottle her up and keep her in a locket around my neck, then I would. I would burn the world to be with her, to protect her.

I'm determined to bleed myself dry for her, to be left panting and satisfied like a dog, her taste dripping down the corners of my mouth and staining every fibre of me. I want her to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I experience at night.

An eternity wouldn't be enough to satisfy my hunger to be with her; every high and every low. I want to stand with my hand over my heart and swear that she is mine, and I hers.

But I remain sneaking touches with her, fingers scraping against each other's whilst we busy ourselves with work. The data in front of me insinuates that Lewis has the pace to win this, but I can't focus on it.

She's just taken a sharp intake of breath as Ryan swerved off the track, landing alongside the wheel partition.

"I'm okay," Ryan's voice crackled over the Sky Sports coverage which showed the crash over and over from multiple angles.

I could feel her next to me, the woman who stole my heart and ran, she was filled with unease as she tried to dodge the thought of her best friend being stuck in a car.

Bono held something out to me, behind her back, and she stiffened as my touch blessed her spine. "Sorry," she apologised, curving her back away from mine and Bono's hands.

I flicked through the paperwork, eyes scanning over the words, my hand slinking down to my thigh where it rested, my other hand cradling my creased forehead whilst I read.

Her pinky finger interlocked itself with mine, her hands shaking gently whilst she scribbled something down with her other hand before suddenly erupting into tears.

[You]

You had to get out of that fucking room, everything was getting tighter and tighter around you - not that you'd ever been claustrophobic, really - and you could feel your breath mingling with everyone else's.

It was too much.

One minute you were sat holding hands with Toto, the next you were outside and emptying the contents of your stomach into the nearest bin, hoping that the humid air would soothe your stomach.

"Fuck," you panted, dragging the back of your hand across your sweaty forehead as you anticipated puking your guts up again. The feeling inside you was painful, turning your stomach inside and out whilst you steadied yourself with a hand against the garage wall.

Footsteps approached you with a hand splaying across your back and rubbing up and down in a soothing way, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Toto asked in a concerned manner.

You knew what he was insinuating, the way it pissed you off as much as it did, shouldn't have, and now you were grinding your teeth. "It's twins." you dryly commented, eyes flat as your feelings whilst he laughed nervously.

"You picked any names?" He awkwardly laughed and flicked around a pen in his hands, "Please tell me you're joking," he added after a mature pause.

You looked at him, hair brimmed with perspiration as he took deeper breaths with the thick air like soup in his lungs.

"I'm pretty sure I'm kidding."

"Pretty sure?" He asked.

You rolled your eyes and prepared to throw up again, "Like sixty percent,"

He raked a hand through his hair, slicking the locks back to his scalp whilst his eyes constantly observed you. "Can you find out?" He croaked.

You could tell he was nervous, who wouldn't be if their mistress was being sick after almost a few months of hooking up.

A scowl blessed your face, "Just because you asked so nicely." you teased, standing upright and shrugging his hand off your back, "I'm gonna go and buy a test," you informed, handing the piece of paper you'd written on across to him.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Give it to Ryan when you see her, don't open it," You knew he'd take the bait and read it, you'd counted on it, "I'm going to the med centre," you told him, shoving your hands into the front pockets of your shorts.

-

Peeing onto a stick whilst hovering above the toilet wasn't easy, and to make matters worse your hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Part of you knew there was absolutely zero chance of you being pregnant, what with taking contraceptives and being really smart about it all.

You set the stick on top of the toilet and crossed to the other side of the room where the basin was. You washed your hands and then stood staring at yourself in the mirror for an unacceptable amount of time.

Taking the biggest gulp of air you could manage, you stormed back to the stick of fate, pulling it into your possession before taking a good look at the future that was planned out for you.

One line had formed, not pregnant waved in front of your face. But you didn't want to celebrate prematurely, so pocketed a secondary test, sending a photo of the negative one to Toto.