Formula one shots / imagines

[we're not over yet]: Pierre Gasly

Word count: 1934

As you walked through bustling streets you fumbled with the latch of your bag trying to open it and retrieve your ringing phone, assuming it was your mother calling yet again. But when the vibrating machine finally surfaced you gasped as you saw the caller iD, it was Pierre. It had been exactly 21 days since you'd broken up, not that you'd been counting or anything. It was a long three weeks of longing and missing him for you and so a weekend trip to Paris was exactly what you needed to get him off your mind. This unexpected call wasn't something you were hoping for, even though you two had agreed to stay friends.

You gingerly tapped the green accept button and brought your phone to your ear. "Hey Pierre" you hummed and chewed your lip absentmindedly.

Pierre held back a groan from the sound of your voice, it had nearly been a month since he'd heard the sweet sound. Little did you know but these three weeks since your separation were ones of regret and pain. He missed your voice, your touch, your love, making love to you, hell he missed everything about you. "I- how are you!" he was so surprised you'd even picked up he stumbled over what to say.

"I'm okay. How are you?" You were honest with him, you were neither here nor there at the moment, still upset after the break up but trying not to let it bog you down. It was hard to go from seeing someone so frequently for that many years to not at all. Both of your friends and family noticed too, how you were not your usual selves.

"Well I've been hoping to talk to you, have a catch up?" Pierre was not so honest, in reality he just wanted to hear your voice, so long without was killing him and the sound in his ears now was like honey to a soar throat, he felt instantly better. You briefly flicked your eyes both ways before crossing the road, trying to find your way to the hotel without your phone to use Google Maps. "Um well I can't really talk now but-" An older man yelled at you in French and you gasped as he scolded you for being so careless, walking out in front of his car.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Pierre expressed genuine concern for the sudden cut off, your shocked intake of breath making him worry. "Yes I'm fine" you huffed "but I was saying-" again you were cut off, but this time by your ex-boyfriend. "It's okay if you can't talk now, I saw on your Instagram you're in Paris no?" He asked you, and although you couldn't see there was a hopeful glint in his eye. He still looks at my Instagram stories, you thought but immediately chided yourself for seeming so desperate. "Uh yeah" you mumbled, eyeing up some croissants in a bakery window that you passed. "Well we could go for coffee tomorrow." He suggested.

"Okay" you can do this, this is what staying friends is, you told yourself - blissfully unaware of the wide grin on Pierre's face at your word. "Great!" He replied a little too excitedly, trying not to give away how thrilled he was to see you. "How about that café I took you to in June?" How ironic, to chose the café he'd taken you too during the trip he'd planned as a  surprise for your birthday, it didn't seem that long ago.  "Sure" you said with less enthusiasm, not sure if you wanted to be reminded of the past, it hurt too much.