𝘽𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍, max verstappen

chapter twenty-eight.

camila laid in the disheveled sheets of the bed. her consciousness slowly returned, and a pounding ache took over her head.

the memories of last night hazily passed through her mind, yet all camila could seem to remember was endless tears, drinking, and the hostile look on max's face as she exited his room.

camila groaned, burying her face into the pillow, the strong scent of alcohol lingering — but also regret.

today was probably the most important day in her career, and she was struggling to get out of bed because she'd been drinking away her misery the night before.

she should have just gone straight to lewis' room.

well, she'd tried to do that, but when she'd opened room 338, she was faced with something, someone, much more unexpected.

stumbling to the bathroom, camila caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror — mascara streaked tears, tangled hair, and the miserable gaze of someone who had been unraveled, the aftermath of her self-destructive night clawing at her soul.

would camila ever stop making mistakes? would she ever be strong enough? because right now, she was only continuing to prove everyone that she was weak.

the room seemed to constrict around her as she tried to piece together the fragments of the previous evening. her fathers threats, crashing down to the floor, the alcohol, max's voice, max's face, max's eyes – it all swirled in a disorienting whirlwind.

but there was a lifeline in the chaos — lewis' words echoed in her mind; 'if you need me, come to my room'

so, with hesitant steps, camila decided to seek comfort in lewis' presence.

as she knocked on lewis' door, the anticipation of his understanding presence managed to offer a sliver of comfort. the door creaked open, and lewis face immediately showed an expression of concern. his eyes widened at the sight of camila's disheveled state, yet lewis also gave camila a silent acknowledgment.

because lewis knew that hugo was staying just across the hall from camila, and lewis knew how angry he'd been, he also knew the hotel provided complementary drinks, and he'd prayed to himself that camila hadn't found them.

his heart dropped as he gazed helplessly at camila's sunken eyes, she was a mess, and today, she had a championship to win.

"come in" lewis ushered, delicately placing his hand against camila's back, moving her inside.

the room filled with a painful silence. camila sat at the edge of lewis' bed, helplessly staring into the distance.

she'd never be free from her mistakes, she'd never be free from her father, and she'd never be free from max.

her eyes began to prick with tears again, camila was sinking, drowning, begging for a breath from the depths of trouble she washed upon herself.

lewis moved to sit next to camila, his heart twisted and grew into tight knots that couldn't be undone. camila huffed out a pained breath, running her hands through her hair and across her face.

"when will i stop making mistakes?" camila whispered, helplessly looking up to the ceiling, somehow expecting the walls to speak to her.

"cam..." lewis shook his head, his eyes pricking with tears, the state camila was in was enough to bring him crumbling down to the floor, just like she'd done last night.

he wrapped his arms around camila's tightly, "you're camila fucking rivera, okay? i know you. and i know you hate that, i know you hate letting people see you, but you have every reason to feel the way you do"