[FANFICTION]
❛❛ I've loved you for longer than I even realized,❜❜
In her debut Formula 1 season with childhood friend Lando Norris, Blake Voss is thrust into a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the exhilarating demands of racing with the complexities...
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▍〔 🧺. 〕࿐ ໋₊ ˖ ▍
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▅▅▅▅▅▅ 0034. ◢◤◢◤◢
The scenery whisked by as I sat on the train. I thought about the pst few days— how they had blurred together.
It had been a week. Seven days. Seven days of awkward, stilted interactions.Seven days of wondering if she had done the right thing by confessing—or if she had shattered something irreparable. Blake tried to tell herself that life went on, that her world didn't revolve around Lando Norris. She had races to win, interviews to attend, and sponsors to appease. She wasn't some lovesick teenager. She was Blake Voss—independent, fierce, and focused.
But no amount of self-reassurance could silence the ache in her chest whenever he walked by. It was almost funny, really, how a single moment of honesty had unraveled years of friendship.
Their interactions since that night had been brief and painfully formal. A nod of acknowledgment in the garage. A clipped "good luck" before practice. Words exchanged not because they wanted to, but because they had to. And always, always, there was the silence. Heavy and suffocating, it filled every space they shared.
Blake hated it. Hated how her chest tightened every time she saw him, how her heart betrayed her with a wave of hope that he might say something, anything, to bridge the gap. But he never did.
How she hated when they ended up in these situations.
Blake walked into the McLaren Technology Center having arrived at England two days after the Chinese Grand Prix. Her eyes were puffy from the night before. She looked like she hadn't had proper sleep in years. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her eye bags were more prominent than ever, her eyes puffed up and her nose red from all the crying.
Another day of ignoring.
Blake pulled her McLaren team jacket tighter around her as she walked into the McLaren Technology Center, her steps echoing in the sleek, pristine halls. The air smelled faintly of polished steel and coffee, a strangely comforting combination she had grown used to over the years. But today, even the familiar surroundings of the MTC felt oppressive.
![➶ 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 °•⁀➷ ﹏﹏ [调情] ꒦꒷](https://img.wattpad.com/a4b463426f6d6153856da5120a77a2b0ca4c54f6/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f727a6777764d796a5064493463773d3d2d313435323838373730362e313764383239383063646662313266303931393137303232303738372e6a7067?s=fit&w=720&h=720)
