𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 [max verstappen x oc]

twenty-seven

It was almost midnight by the time her brother had finally slowed down the questions and had enough time with the drivers. Though he did beg Checo and Max to come sign all of the stuff in his room. Lena had taken a glass of whiskey outside to sit in the chill air for some quiet. The door opened quietly, and the seat next to her on the bench became occupied. 

Max didn't say anything for a while. Lena knew what he wanted to say, but she respected that he didn't say it. 

"Stage three leukemia. It happened when he was nine." She broke the silence, sipping her whiskey and telling Max what he wanted to hear. "He's been in and out of hospitals. The doctors say that he had a good chance of being done with all of this soon, but they said the same thing last year."

Max inhaled. "I'm so sorry, Lena."

"I'm not the one to apologize to." She chuckled sadly. "I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want either of you to know that."

"Why?"

Lena faced him with an annoyed expression. "Because I know what happens now. I'm the girl with the sick brother, that's who I become." She turned back to the front. "I love Marcello, I would do anything for him. But my family problems are my  family problems. I don't need anything else being involved in them."

Silence again. 

"I understand." Max said softly, and she could feel his leg brush against hers. "If there's anything that I can do, money or anything, don't hesi--"

"Not this, either." She shook her head and cut him off. "I don't want your money or your services. The last thing I need is to be your charity case."

"That's not what I meant--"

Lena inhaled and calmed down. "I know. I know that's not what you meant but that's what it feels like. So please, don't."

Max nodded and leaned back. 

"Where is my fanboy brother, anyway?" She asked, furrowing her brows. 

"With Checo. Marcello wanted to show him his min-helmet collection. I stepped out to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about, Max." She smiled sadly. "I was drunk and you walked me home--that's it."

"No, there's more to it." He shook his head and for the first time Lena realized he had freckles under his eyes. "I...maybe I shouldn't have done that, or in Miami too, but...." He shook his head again. "I don't regret doing that, is what I want to say. I don't regret acting on those feelings."

"What feelings, Max?" Lena frowned in disbelief. "There are no...feelings. At least, I don't think there should be any feelings. You're..." She stopped herself. "We're...." Stopped herself again. "It just--it shouldn't.

"Lena." Max's hand brushed her leg, his mere presence closer to her made Lena stop breathing for a moment. Their voices were low, like they were talking about a secret, and he stayed a few inches from her. "I...."

She gazed up at him, waiting for him to say something--anything.

"I like arguing with you. I like bickering. I like when you make fun of me because no one ever does. I like that you aren't afraid of me." He spit everything out, word after word of emotion spilling from his mouth. Lena could only gaze back up at him.

"But most of all, I like that you treat me like a person. Not like Max Verstappen, or a F1 driver. You don't kiss my ass all the time and tell me I'm amazing because I know that I am not. I like being around you because for the seconds that I'm with you, I feel like I can be whatever I want."

It was silent after he spoke, neither one of them knowing what to do with what he had just said. Max's hand was on top of hers now, shamelessly holding it. The muscles in his cheeks flexed and his blue eyes twinkled.

"Max..." Lena started.

He shook his head. "Please don't say that you don't feel it, too. I know that you do, I know you do because I see it in your eyes when I'm with you. Please don't lie to me, Lena."

She chewed the inside of her cheek. Fuck this.

"I feel it, too." Lena said slowly. "I thought...I thought I hated you. Maybe I do. But I feel something for you. I just...." She sighed. "Max, you're my boss. You're my superior and Checo--"

"Don't mind Checo." Max rolled his eyes. "I'm not your boss, I am a man and I can do whatever I want. They don't get to tell me what to do, you of all people know that."

That made her smile, and at the sight of her grin, Max bared one of his own. 

"No one tells Max Verstappen what to do."

"Apparently no one tells Angie Augustine what to do, either?"

She rolled her eyes at the childhood nickname. "Only my parents call me that. It makes me sound like a five-year-old."

"It's cute. I like it."

The blush that appeared on her cheeks was embarrassing. Max's hand still held hers, and they sat in silence for the rest of their time out there.