𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 [max verstappen x oc]

twenty-three

Lena handed the cab driver a few bills wadded up into the palm of her hand as she stepped out of the car and clutched her duffel. 

"Angelena!" Her mother gasped from the porch, bouncing down the stairs and running over to her daughter. Lena's mother was downright gorgeous--modeling the same features that Lena had, just a little bit better. Marianna Augustine looked quite young for her age, despite only being fity-five she looked more like low forties, always inflating her ego. "I missed you so much, ¿cómo pudiste irte y no llamar todos los días?"

Lena laughed. "Mama, por favor. Estoy muy cansada para mi viaje." Her mother embraced her, squeezing her tightly and Lena could've cried at the familiar feeling. It had been a long time since she hugged her mother. 

Her mother rushed her into the house, speaking a mix of Spanish and English that Lena could barely keep up with due to her sole use of French having been in Monaco, but she just smiled and enjoyed having her mother back.

"Angie?" Her father's voice echoed through the house as Lena shut the door behind her.

She inhaled and breathed in all the smells she'd missed since she'd been gone. The house she'd bought her parents was small–two-story, three-bedroom with a living room and kitchen big enough to host a small get-together. Her parents had refused the money initially, but when Lena came to show them the house and hand them the keys, her father almost cried.

The walls were covered in photos of the family, hooked up against yellow-painted walls that Lena had done with her bare hands.

"Angie?" Her father repeated from the living room, it seemed. She smiled at her mother before dropping her bag by the door and making her way to the living room. Emilio Augustine was a tall, handsome man. He had met Marianna at a museum in Dublin–they were the only people who spoke Spanish and found each other admiring the same piece of art. They went out every night after that until they returned to university. Marianna had promised to send him letters from Paris, and Emilio had sworn to visit from Italy. By the time they both graduated, Emilio was hired at an automotive company and swept Marianna off her feet with woes of family and life in Spain where they were from. When she was 23, only two years after moving away with Emilio, Marianna became pregnant with Lena and named it one of the happiest days of her life. They got married a few months later.

"Hola, papa." Lena said as her eyes fell on her father, sitting comfortably in the leather chair she'd bought for his forty-second birthday.

The smile on his face warmed her heart, and Lena crouched to hug him tightly. Her father's hair was salt-and-peppered, his once young feature tainted by wrinkles and sun damage that made him look older than he truly was. He smelled like cinnamon and wood.

"Te extrañé, hija. No visitas lo suficiente." He mumbled into her shoulder, causing her to chuckle as she pulled away.

"No tengo tiempo. Necesitas ganar dinero para ti y la familia."

"Yo también gano dinero, Angie, ¿recuerdas?"

They're friendly bickering was comforting to Lena, and the childhood nickname brought a wide smile to her face. Lena was suddenly hit with how much she missed her family.

"We're so happy you're home, Angie." Her mother's voice sounded from the hallway behind them. "All of us."

Lena swallowed and frowned. "Donde esta Marcello?"

"Sleeping. He sleeps a lot now." Her father smiled sadly. "He'll be happy to see you, you should go say hello."

She nodded. Marcello was born thirteen years ago, a nine year age gap between the siblings that was mostly due to the fact that the Augustine family was living paycheck to paychek and couldn't afford to have another kid until they were financially stable. Lena moved away when she was 18 to start working, meaning she'd missed many of his formative years, but he called her regularly and she did her best to send gifts or knick-knacks when she could.

Lena walked up the creaky stairs, cringing at every noise, and pushed her brothers door open.

He was sleeping, as her father had said, and the monitor by his bed projected his heart rate. The IV drip next to it was empty and she made a mental note to change it out once he was awake. Hospital records and baseball poster decorated his walls, memories of the past few years in and out of Sinai while being a teenage boy.

She sat on the side of his bed, moving a strand of similarly dark brown hair out of his eyes. He stirred, peeking through his covers before his eyes widened and a smile lit up his face.

"Angie!" He lept up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight and Lena thought she might black out.

She coughed. "Un poco demasiado apretado, Marcello. Pero...yo también te extrañé."

Marcello didn't seem to care and held onto her for another few moments. When he finally pulled away, Lena swallowed at the sight of him. Marc looked better than the last time she visited, but his pale face and the circles under his eyes were evident and didn't seem to go away. 

"How do you feel." She fixed his hair as Marcello tried to swat her hand away. 

"Fine. Mama worries too much, I'm getting better." He rolled his eyes and pointed to the IV. "I'm off medication for a few weeks to see what happens."

Lena was nervous and she sighed. 

"It's okay, Lena. The doctors know what they're doing." 

She shook her head. "Si, yo sabe. I just.....I worry when I'm not home. It's hard to take care of you."

"That's why I have Mama. And Papa, but he doesn't really know how to do this stuff." Marcello shrugged. "That's boring stuff, I wanna hear about Formula One!"

He began an onslaught of questions, including driver names and cities and a bunch of racing terms that she didn't really know. 

"Tranquilo, Marcello. Slower."

"Fine. What's Max Verstappen like? Is he cool?"

Her breath caught at the mention of that name. Lena had made an active choice to ignore and forget about him ever since that night in Monaco. It seemed they kept ahving these moments, weird lapses ni time where Lena felt things she didn't want to feel. She was ashamed of how much she wished she'd kissed him that night. She was even more ashamed for considering that thought at all. 

"He's cool. Formula One champions are definitely cool." Lena admitted. "Look, lots of time for questions at dinner. I need to talk to Ma and Pa."

Marcello seemed annoyed but he reluctantly sat back. "Fine. But I want to know everything."

Lena nodded, smiling before giving him a sly look. "I have a surprise for you."

Marcello grinned like an idiot at that. "What is it?"

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a lanyard--a paddock pass.

"No way! Are you serious, Angie? ¿Esto es real?" His voice hit a new octave. He had leapt forward again in bed, snatching the pass and examining it to see if it was real. But the smile on his face slowly faded as his hands dropped to his lap. "Do you think Mama will let me go?"

Lena furrowed her eyebrows. "Why not? There can be...accommodations."

Marcello noded sadly, but whatever hopes he had seemed to dwindle as he handed the lanyard back. "Okay. Thank you, Angie. I missed you a lot."

She hugged her brother one more time, squeezing him tightly as she eyed the lanyard nervously on the bed.