Magnetic Hearts

The Weight of Time

 Chris' POV

It had been an ordinary morning—at least, that's how it started. I was sitting on the couch, lazily scrolling through my phone, checking the latest F1 news, catching up on social media. Nothing out of the ordinary. But somehow, I ended up on a page I hadn't intended to visit. A fan page dedicated to Franco.

Normally, I avoided these things. It wasn't that I didn't support him or appreciate the love he received from fans, but sometimes it felt like stepping into a world I wasn't meant to see. Today, though, curiosity got the better of me.

I clicked on one of the links. It led to a fanfiction site.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat as I skimmed the story—Franco rescuing a damsel in distress, sweeping her off her feet, being the romantic hero. I knew Franco would roll his eyes at these things if he saw them, but I found them amusing. That was until I started noticing a pattern.

Every girl in the stories was young. Too young. Some were barely in their twenties if that.

Suddenly, the amusement I felt faded, replaced by a gnawing irritation. It was as if every single person who fantasized about Franco couldn't imagine him with anyone older—anyone like me.

I closed the tab, feeling the sting of insecurity creeping in. I wasn't old by any means, but being thirty and seeing these fictional, impossibly young girls paired with Franco made me question myself in ways I hadn't expected.

I shoved my phone aside and took a deep breath. I didn't have time to spiral into overthinking. Today was important—we were meeting Daniel Ricciardo's family. It was supposed to be fun. Relaxing.

But as I got ready, the thoughts lingered.

Franco had already left to pick up some things for lunch when I arrived at Daniel's house. His family was warm, welcoming, and full of energy. Daniel's nieces and nephews ran around, giggling and chasing each other in the backyard, their high-pitched laughter filling the air.

I smiled, trying to shake off the unsettling feelings from earlier. Daniel's sisters were kind, chatting with me as if we'd known each other for years. But as the conversation went on, the inevitable question came.

"So, Chris, have you and Franco thought about children yet?" one of Daniel's sisters asked casually, sipping her drink as she looked at me expectantly.

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. My mind flashed back to those fanfiction stories, to all the impossibly young girls paired with Franco. My throat tightened.

"No, we haven't," I managed to say, forcing a smile. "I mean, we've only just moved in together, so... we're still figuring things out."

"Oh, of course," she said, nodding. "But you know, the clock's ticking." She winked as if the comment was meant to be light-hearted, but it landed like a weight in my chest. "Franco's great with kids, you should see him with the little ones."

I swallowed, feeling the knot in my stomach grow. I wasn't ready to talk about kids, not now. Not like this. But the thought lingered, gnawing at the insecurities that had already begun to fester earlier in the day.

I laughed it off, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction, but inside, I couldn't shake the unease.

Later that evening, Franco and I were back at the apartment, unpacking the last of our things and settling in for the night. I was quieter than usual, still trying to process the day—the fanfictions, the question about kids, everything.

Franco noticed, of course. He always did.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes soft with concern.

I looked up at him, biting my lip. I didn't want to unload everything on him—not after such a long day—but I couldn't keep it in anymore. Not after everything that had been swirling in my mind.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Franco walked over, gently cupping my face in his hands. His touch was warm, and reassuring. "What's going on?"

I hesitated, feeling ridiculous for what I was about to say, but the words tumbled out anyway. "I was reading some things online earlier. About you."

He raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. "About me?"

"Yeah... fan stuff," I admitted, feeling embarrassed. "And, well... all the stories were about you with these... young girls. Like, barely out of their teens."

Franco's eyes softened with understanding, and he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me. "Chris, you know those are just fantasies, right? They don't mean anything."

"I know," I said, resting my head against his chest. "But then today, Daniel's sister asked me if we were thinking about kids, and I just... I don't know. It made me feel like I was running out of time or something."

Franco kissed the top of my head, his hand gently rubbing my back. "You're not running out of time, Chris. And you don't have to worry about what anyone else thinks."

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "Have you ever thought about kids? I mean, thought about it?"

Franco was quiet for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly? I haven't given it much thought yet. I'm focused on racing, on us. But that doesn't mean I haven't wondered about it."

I nodded, my heart racing a little. "I don't know if I'm ready for kids. Not now, anyway. But... I don't know what I'll want in the future. It's hard to think about."

Franco smiled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "That's okay. We don't have to figure it all out right now. We'll take it one step at a time, together."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, feeling some of the weight lift from my shoulders. Franco always had a way of making things feel simpler and more manageable. His calmness steadied me in a way nothing else could.

"Thanks," I said softly, leaning into him. "I just don't want you to feel like I'm holding you back from anything."

"You're not," Franco said firmly, pulling me closer. "I'm with you because I love you, Chris. And whatever the future holds, we'll figure it out together."

I smiled, resting my head against his chest once more, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. The insecurities still lingered, but with Franco by my side, they didn't seem quite as overwhelming anymore.

For now, that was enough.