Formula 1 One-Shots (II) REQUESTS CLOSED!

Pierre Gasly [18]

A/N Wished by landochamps_f. I hope you like it! 

Still recovering from this race weekend. Thank you halo and everything else that makes these cars so safe! But something positiv to mention are Mick's points. I am extremely happy for him.

Book: My Max Verstappen book "Dalliance" is online! Go and check it out (:

TAGLIST: tamaraudvardy Mandolin016 useresssss _S_ara_h_ tomstoryholland smallmonsterr

WORDS: 1287

[18]-Where did you get those bruises?
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"Why does it have to be so warm." I whine and fan myself some air with my hand while I follow Pierre trough the Paddock. We or better he just finished the last interview and can finally return to the motorhome where it would be perfectly cooled down from the air conditioning.

"Come on, it is not that bad." Pierre laughs at my words, easily said from a person in a T-Shirt while I decided this morning that it is chilly and that I need to wear a thin sweater. Now I regret this decision because it is way warmer than I expected it to be.

"Why can't you race on ice?" I continue while rolling up the sleeves of my sweater as high as possible to reduce the fabric on my skin. A little sight leaves my lips when the soft breeze brushes over my arms, but it is still way to warm in my chosen clothes.

"Because then you would complain that it is cold." Pierre teaches me and for a second, I squint my eyes at him. It would be cool to see them race on ice, but he is probably right, and I would complain about my frozen fingertips and my cold nose.

"Maybe you are right."

"I am always right." Playfully I slap Pierre on the chest because he said these words so cocky and with his signature smirk on the lips. In the same moment, my hand reaches his chest, I realise two things. The bruises on my arm are exposed and Pierre is looking directly at them. My heart stops for a second and I hope he didn't notice them even though I know exactly that he has seen them.

"Where did you get those bruises?" He asks, face worried with no sign of his giggly behaviour he had just a few seconds ago. I try to have a neutral face as possible while my heart is racing in my chest, and I am sure that my voice is trembling a bit.

"Oh, these?" I act surprised and lift my arm in a questioning manner. "I am just clumsy, you know that." Trying to brush of the situation with a laugh does help sometimes but this is not the case right now. Pierre carefully grabs my arm to investigate the bruises which decorate my wrist up to my elbow.

"They look nasty." Pierre sounds concern and my heart aches because I am lying to him, but this is not a conversation I want to have with him. He shouldn't worry about me because there are things which are way more important than this.

"It's nothing." I try to brush it of and simply pull down the sleeves of my sweater again to stop him from looking at the bruises. Why did I forget them in the first place? I should have known that Pierre will not ignore them.

"How exactly did it happen?" He asks curiously and I sight "Pierre." I start but can't continue talking because Pierre stops me directly and there is no way of me avoiding his question.

"No, tell me."

"I tripped and couldn't hold onto something." I tell him, not looking into his eyes and I start to walk again because I want to get out of this situation, already knowing that he isn't going to believe me this story because it is not a good one.

"You're lying." Pierre says disappointed and I keep my gaze lowered when I try to contradict him.

"It wasn't a lie."

"Since when do you get bruises that look like fingers when you trip?" Pierre's voice sounds so much softer now and in my walking. He did see the fingers which makes it even more difficult to hide what really happened. I don't say anything just look to the ground while Pierre is watching me closely.

"Please, I just want to help you." He lightly touches my shoulders and I look up to him. There is a worried look in his eyes, but I try to resist the urge to tell him everything. This is nothing Pierre should worry about.

"You don't need to." I try to turn away his idea of helping me because I fear that Pierre will get hurt if he tries to help me. There is no way I am going to risk his well being for my own.

"Is you boyfriend abusive? Is he hurting you?" My body freezes and I can't say a word. He figured this out way to quick and directly there is some pain in my arm when I remember the harsh grip of my boyfriend who created these bruises.

"Pierre..." I try to find another excuse, but it seems like Pierre already figured out how this happened but still wants the confirmation for it.

"Yes, or no?" He is not sounding angry, still just concerned and I decide to carefully nod. There is no reason to hide it longer when Pierre already figured out what happened to me and maybe it isn't too bad to have someone who knows the story.

"Okay." Pierre nods and is already thinking about a solution for my problem because he keeps talking.

"You will fly home with me after the race. I will not let you go back to this asshole." For a second, I feel relieved, but this feeling soon fades when I think about the consequences when I would fly back with Pierre instead of going home.

"I can't leave him." To much fear is inside of me. How am I supposed to leave someone which has so much power over me? He Is controlling everything, and I will have nothing left if I don't return to our shared home after this weekend.

"Why? Tell me one good reason why you should stay with someone who is hurting you?" I know that Pierre is right, that I should not stay with him but there is one last straw I am holding on to. One little hope or something I use as an excuse to stay with him.

"He loves me."

"Does he really?" Pierre's voice is low, not attracting the attention of anyone around us and I appreciate the fact that he is trying to keep this conversation private. There is nothing worse than people eavesdropping a conversation they are not supposed to hear.

"Probably not." I whispers these two words because I know he is probably not loving me anymore and that my little straw of hope is slowly falling apart, fading to be non existing and that it is only the fear that lets me stay with him.

"And you, do you still have feelings?" Is Pierre's next question and this is the first time in this conversation that I feel confident when speaking up.

"I lost them the first time he raised his hand."

"Let me protect you." Pierre is asking me, hand lightly placed on my shoulder, just for me to be able to back off if I am not comfortable with his touch. I feel a little bit of warmth because of his words but it is overshadowed by the fear inside of me.

"I am scared." I admit that there is a cold hand around my heart, making it clench with fear because of what will happen if I try to leave my boyfriend. It does make me feel more confident that Pierre is with me, but the angst is bigger.

"And I will do everything for you to feel safe again." Pierre promises me and without even thinking further I wrap my arms around him. Feeling thankful for having him in my life and that he will help to make everything better again.