Romeo and Juliet || Carlos Sainz

The club

*CARLOS POV*

The Canadian GP had seen Charles win, Max second and Russel third, while Carlos had finished eighth. It had been a bad weekend for him, he had avoided journalists as much as possible, except on Thursday and post race. He had thought about calling in sick and skipping media day, but Rupert and Caco had forced him to go and look calm, even if he was not at all. 

The news of Y/n getting fired by Ferrari was the main topic all over the Paddock.

On Friday he hit the wall during the second free practice, in qualifying he had gone out of Q2 and during the race he had done some overtaking but had failed to make it to the podium. After the race he had returned to the hotel alone, while no one had noticed. He wanted to run to the hotel gym and vent all his anger on the punching bag. And he did it until late, until he could no longer even feel the pain in his hands and shoulders. He was completely sweating, his shirt was clinging to his body. He had turned his anger into energy, despite the enormous effort that every F1 race requires. He didn't seem to have enough, it seemed he could go on like this until infinity. He was angry, disappointed, furious, with others and with himself. Perhaps more with himself than with others.
He looked at the mirror that ran along the wall of the gym. He was alone, had been alone all along. His team knew exactly what to do in such cases: leave him in peace until he showed up.

His hair was dripping with sweat, he was totally dehydrated, his lips were pale and his hands were shaking. Maybe it was time to go back to his room and take a shower.
He went up to his room and washed himself slowly, in the shower the steady stream of water above him ran over his entire body, never stopping. His muscles were contracted, swollen, he was huge, yet inside him something was broken. He had lost faith in others and in himself. The water soaked his hair, his face, his chest, he kept his head lowered and his eyes closed, breathing slowly, concentrating only on his breath.
After a quarter of an hour, he stepped out of the shower and dried his body with the white hotel towel. He dressed, leaving his hair wet, silence reigned around him, as if there was no one in the hotel. Indeed, for Carlos it was like that, emptiness around him.

Before the British GP there was a week for resting. Carlos took the opportunity to return to Spain and recharge his batteries. He spent a lot of time with his family. They asked him about Y/n only once, then they stopped, as they received no response from Carlos. He played golf with his father, went fishing with his cousin, cooked for his family on Sundays at his parents' house and trained every day with Rupert.
He felt happy, he was focused and slowly things seemed to be going his way. He was surrounded by people and things that gave him serenity and all this was indispensable for his mental and physical health.

From time to time he spoke with Charles, who, however, avoided the Y/n topic. Everyone seemed to cooperate with Carlos, although they were all worried that he was stifling a part of himself in order to concentrate only on work. This was indeed the case, but Carlos was fine with it, it was the only way to move forward.
The wound would heal itself.
Not seeing Y/n around was already a good thing for him, it made him feel calmer, even though Max was always there, serene, acting as if nothing had happened. It was driving Carlos crazy. If only he had known things as they really were...

The week break was over and after returning to Italy to study the circuit and strategies, he left with Charles for England. He tried hard throughout the journey not to think about Y/n and when he went to London to see her. How much had changed since that time, and how bad things were now... 

*Y/N'S POV*

Y/n days all passed in the same way. He would wake up, have breakfast, change and go to the gym until before lunch, then shower, eat something simple and read Lord of the Rings until before dinner. She would almost always order takeaway, then wash up and continue reading her book.
She had chosen that very novel because it was long and she would have so much free time on her hands.

It went on like this for a week, she had not even followed the race weekend. The mere thought of it made her feel sick, not only because she would see Carlos, but above all because she already missed that world terribly, after all it had always been her whole life, her whole world. Thinking of no longer being able to be part of it, of no longer being able to experience that adrenaline rush that only working in F1 gives you, made her gasp for air. She couldn't bear it. She only knew that Charles had won. She had obviously written to him to congratulate, but did not inquire about Carlos's position.