Magnetic Hearts

Fear

The 2025 season had just begun, and Franco was now racing for Audi, his first year with the team. The excitement of a new chapter fueled his determination to prove himself. As the green lights signaled the start of the race, the engines roared to life, and Franco skillfully navigated the initial laps. He was in the zone, completely focused on finding every opportunity to gain positions.

Chris watched from the pit wall, nerves tingling in her stomach. She'd gotten used to the stress of race days, but something felt different today. It was a feeling she couldn't shake, a knot of dread that settled in her chest as she anxiously followed Franco's every move on the track.

As Franco approached a tight corner while fighting for position, a sudden mechanical failure caused his car to veer off course. The impact was violent—the car spun out of control, smashing into the barriers with a bone-rattling thud. For a few agonizing moments, everything seemed to stop.

The air left Chris's lungs, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. She stared at the screen in disbelief, unable to process the sight of Franco's car, now a mangled wreck. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as panic surged through her body.

"Franco!" she whispered breathlessly, her vision starting to blur. She barely noticed one of the engineers grabbing her arm to keep her from collapsing. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and she clutched at the front of her shirt as if it would help her breathe.

"Chris, breathe! Look at me," the engineer said firmly, steadying her by the shoulders. "He's going to be okay. The medical team is already there."

She nodded, her entire body trembling, but managed to take a deep breath. Still, it wasn't until she saw Franco being carefully lifted out of the car and onto a stretcher that her panic slightly subsided. Her knees nearly buckled again when she noticed his limp form.

As the medics rushed Franco to the medical center, Chris found herself following them without thinking. She needed to be near him. She needed to know he was alright.

Hours later, after an intense examination and X-rays, Chris was finally allowed to see Franco in the medical room. He was lying on the bed, his arm in a sling, looking pale and exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his clavicle was wrapped tightly in a protective brace. He turned his head when he heard her enter, his tired eyes softening when he saw her.

"Chris," he breathed, his voice strained but gentle. "I'm okay."

She rushed to his side, tears filling her eyes as she sank into the chair beside the bed, taking his hand in hers. "You scared the hell out of me, Franco," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I thought... I thought..."

He squeezed her hand lightly, offering a weak smile. "Hey, I'm still here," he said softly. "It takes more than a crash to get rid of me."

She let out a shaky laugh, though it was clear from her expression that the terror still clung to her. Her gaze swept over him, taking in every detail—the disheveled curls, the slight scrapes on his face, the bandages on his shoulder. He looked vulnerable, almost younger than his 22 years.

"You look..." she started, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. "You look like a teenager again. It's like this accident somehow took years off you."

Franco chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain the movement caused. "I don't know if that's a compliment or not, given how messed up I am right now," he teased. "But I'll take it."

She leaned closer, resting her forehead against his, her tears finally spilling over. "I was so scared, Franco. I—I thought I might lose you," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

His uninjured arm wrapped around her, pulling her close despite the discomfort it caused him. "You didn't," he reassured her. "And you won't. I'm not going anywhere, Chris. I promise."

For a long time, they stayed like that, Chris nestled in the crook of his arm, the rhythmic sound of his breathing slowly calming her frazzled nerves. Eventually, a doctor came in to check on Franco, and Chris reluctantly let go of him to give the medical staff room.

After the doctor left, Chris settled back in the chair, her fingers brushing through Franco's curls as he lay back against the pillows. "You're going to have to rest for a while," she said, trying to sound stern despite the tenderness in her voice. "No racing, no pushing yourself. You need to heal."

He groaned. "I know, I know. I just hate sitting still."

"You'll have to get used to it for a bit," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips. "And I'll be here to make sure you do."

Franco gazed at her with a mixture of love and gratitude. "You know, Chris... I couldn't have done any of this without you. I do feel safe when you're with me. Like I can handle anything."

She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin for a moment. "And I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "We're in this together."

As the night wore on, Chris sat by his side, holding his hand, her heart gradually finding its calm as Franco drifted off to sleep.